Amelia
by eshadlow
Summary: S3 AU. Sequel to Delilah. Syd and Vaughn search for their daughter. Chapter 7 now up!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine, JJ Abrams and Touchstone own them. Delilah and Amelia are mine. Spoilers: Well, this is really AU but is based after The Two with elements of Succession thrown in here and there.  
  
Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Delilah, it picks up right where that left off pretty much. Thank you to all the readers of Delilah, it is because of you that this fic has come even this far.  
  
Dedicated: To Kiah, who inspired the whole thing.  
  
**********  
  
The little townhouse on the Rue Des Rêves is lit up and bustling, despite the fact it's after 1am. Government agents on order of the CIA are trawling thorough the various rooms, searching for anything that might be a clue to the events that have transpired here tonight and for the past 2 years. The only room that has yet to be touched is the nursery upstairs, by order of Agent Eric Weiss.  
  
Inside the entry hall of the neatly decorated home Sydney sits silently as a paramedic checks her over and examines the gorgeous bruise that is already forming on her temple. Next to her, his eyes refusing to leave her face as if fearful she may be injured again, is Michael Vaughn. Neither has spoken a word since her revelation about their children. Vaughn's silence is caused by his absolute inability to think of something to say that won't make this situation a million times worse. But Sydney's silence, he fears, is caused by more than just one emotion.  
  
Watching her face as the paramedic checks her blood pressure, he can tell she's trying desperately not to fall to pieces right here and now; her body resisting the urge to just collapse into a sobbing mess on the smooth marble tile. Truthfully, he's resiting a similar urge himself.  
  
"You'll be fine," the paramedic tells Sydney as he packs his instruments back in his bag. "Slight concussion, no fracture that I can see. You'll have a hell of a headache for a few days though."  
  
"Thank you," Sydney tells the man, uttering her first word in almost 15 minutes. He nods and exists through the wide open front door. Sydney moves to stand up and Vaughn jumps to his feet beside her, grabbing her hand to help her up off of the cold floor. For a moment their eyes meet, and Vaughn is almost struck back by the absolute force of the emotions she has swirling around in her gaze. Fear, pain, sadness. But mostly, guilt. Vaughn drops her hand to her side, startled, and immediately regrets his move when he sees disappointment join all the other emotions on her face.  
  
Wordlessly, he reaches across the space between then and places his arms around her. She falls into his embrace, sobbing like a child. They stand there for a long time, Vaughn taking comfort in the familiarity of having her in his arms. He hasn't hugged her like this.well, since that night in Hong Kong, when the hug was mostly one sided. This is different. This is like the embraces they used to share, before Hong Kong. Before Lauren. Hell, even before they bought down SD-6. The times he comforted her in the dim corner of the warehouse or, on occasion, in the hallways of the Ops Centre.  
  
Vaughn's train of thought is broken by the vibration of Sydney's muffled voice against his shoulder. He places one hand under her chin, turning her face up to him. "What did you say?" he asks.  
  
Sydney looks at him with her tear-filled eyes, so dark in their sadness. "I'm so sorry," she tells him.  
  
"Hey no," Vaughn says, hugging her tighter to him. "No apologizing, for any of this."  
  
Sydney doesn't answer, she just buries her head in his shoulder once again, her tears still flowing. After a few minutes, they begin to subside, and Vaughn feels safe enough to release his grasp on her. She takes a step back from him, wiping her eyes furiously with her sleeve. After a moment she turns her face to his.  
  
"Thank you," is all she says.  
  
"Anytime." The simple word speaks volumes between them. "We should find Weiss, see if they've turned up anything useful yet."  
  
Sydney nods in agreement and makes her way slowly towards the stairs, her easy movements around the furniture and walls suggesting a familiarity with her surroundings. They step out onto a small landing/office area on the top floor of the house and find Weiss, directing two agents to box up the contents of a filing cabinet.  
  
"Wait!" Sydney says when she sees what the agents are collecting. They stop mid-task and watch in silence as Sydney crosses the room and rifles quickly through the pile of manila folders until she finds what she wants. She walks back to Vaughn, the folder clutched in her hand. "C'mon," she tells him. "I want to show you something."  
  
Vaughn follows her down the corridor to the only closed door in the hallway. Sydney's eyes find his as she reaches over and turns the knob, her expression unreadable but thankfully not as full of sadness as it was before. Sydney pushes the door open and waits for him to step in before her.  
  
The reality of the nursery is enough to take Vaughn's breath away. Much as Sydney had done mere hours ago, he finds himself wandering around slowly; running fingers over furniture, reaching down into one crib to finger the corner of a quilt. Sydney watches his journey silently from the doorway, tears falling silently down her cheeks.  
  
Vaughn finds his way to the framed photographs on the dresser, his attention drawn to the familiar silver picture frame Sydney had noticed earlier. He gently picks it up to study the picture inside, his eyes brimming with tears as his runs his fingers softly over the innocent faces of his daughters.  
  
"My god," he says, so softly it's almost a whisper. "They're so beautiful."  
  
One by one he picks up the framed photographs and studies the pictures within, trying to give himself an idea of the milestones in their lives he has missed. As he does, Sydney begins to speak from the doorway.  
  
"I've experienced some horrible things in my life," she tells him, causing Vaughn to turn his head briefly to her. "But I have never been as scared as I was the day they were born." Sydney takes a few tentative steps across the room towards him, reaching over his left shoulder to pick up one of the framed images, of two impossibly tiny babies in a plastic incubator, tubes running every which way from their bodies. "I went into labour almost 8 weeks early. They tried to stop it for two days, but in the end my blood pressure was sky high and the placenta had started to separate, so they had to do an emergency caesarean."  
  
Sydney hands the photograph to Vaughn. "I was so out of it for the first 36 hours, I didn't even get to hold them until they were two days old. But the moment I did, I was in love." Sydney hands Vaughn another picture, this one of Sydney holding the girls, both a little larger and healthier looking, but still obviously in hospital.  
  
"Were they ok?" Vaughn asks, his voice strained and soft. "I mean health wise, were there any complications?"  
  
Sydney shakes her head as she places one of the frames back on the surface of the dresser. "No, they were perfect. They were breathing on their own from the moment they were born."  
  
"Overachievers from day one," Vaughn says with a slight smile. "I wonder where they get that from."  
  
Sydney turns to face him, smiling. "They really were. They grew so quickly, I was able to bring them home only five weeks later."  
  
"And this," Vaughn gestures to the house around him, "was home?"  
  
"Yeah, it was." Sydney reaches out once again and picks up yet another picture frame from the dresser. "They're first birthday," she explains as she hands Vaughn the photo of two identical infants, one with cake smeared all over her face and one hand. The rest of the cake sits before the two of them, a large handprint visible in the icing. "Amelia was a bit excited, didn't want to wait for us to finish singing to her."  
  
"When is their birthday?" Vaughn asks, his eyes not moving from the latest picture in his hand.  
  
"They were born on October 21st, 2003," Sydney tells him. "At 6:28am and 6:32am."  
  
"Who's older?"  
  
"Amelia. She's the far more headstrong of the two, always goes in with all guns blazing. Delilah, by comparison, is much more sedate. She waits for someone else to tell her what to do."  
  
Vaughn turns his head to her, an amused expression on his face. "Delilah, sedate?" He laughs at the use of the description, thinking of the little ratbag he adores so much back home. "My god, they must be a handful."  
  
Sydney laughs with him, her smile wide and genuine. "You have no idea. Mia is far too much like me whereas Delilah thankfully inherited more of your personality."  
  
"Mia? Is that what you call Amelia?"  
  
"Yeah. I always have. Amelia Morgaine is quite a mouthful for a little tot."  
  
"Morgaine? As in Morgaine Le Fay." Vaughn asks, causing Sydney to give him a surprised look, her smile still present on her face.  
  
"Yeah. Mists of Avalon is one of my favourite books. My nanny used to tell me the stories of Camelot when I was younger, I have a sort of fascination with Arthurian legend. How did you know that's where it was from?"  
  
"My mother used to tell me the same stories. She's a bit of an old romantic." He turns away from the dresser and continues to circle the room, settling once again on the teddy bears in the rocking chair. He picks one up in each hand, studying the lettering on their fronts carefully. "What is Delilah's middle name?" he asks with his eyes still trained on the toys before him.  
  
"Larkin. Another literature name, from a book I studied in high school. I remember Alison being horrified that I had chosen such exceedingly flowery names for my children."  
  
Vaughn turns to Sydney and finds her looking startled at the familiar reference to Doren, aware that the same expression is probably on his face. "Did she live here with you?" he asks after a moment, not sure if Sydney wants to answer or if she even remembers the answer.  
  
"She did for a while," Sydney answers slowly before pausing to look down at her hands. "There is a lot I need to tell you about the last two years." She pauses. "However, I don't know if I have the strength to tell this story twice, and there is already one huge debrief waiting for me back in LA." Sydney takes a step towards Vaughn, her expression apologetic. "Can you wait?"  
  
Vaughn watches her for a moment, contemplating the enormity of the evening's events and the future implications of what he's learned, and will still learn. Somehow, things that were desperately important yesterday seems insignificant today. At least compared to the health and safety of his children and Sydney.  
  
God, children. As in more than one child. His head hurts at the thought of it, and yet he's not upset or horrified by the news. The love he feels for Delilah was instant the first time he met her and the thought of having another child like her to love and care for is actually kind of amazing.  
  
"Yeah," he finally tells her. "I can wait."  
  
There is a gentle knock at the door and both Sydney and Vaughn turn to find Weiss waiting for them. "Um, sorry to interrupt," he tells them. "But I was hoping we could get the guys in here to search. They're almost finished the rest of the house."  
  
"There's nothing of importance to Alison in here," Sydney tells him. "Nothing the CIA would care about, anyway." Her voice is soft as she crosses the room and picks up a bunny rug from the end of one of the cribs, fingering the embroidered name on one corner. Vaughn watches her for a minute, then addresses Weiss.  
  
"Pack it all up," he says, causing Sydney's head to turn. "Everything in this room goes back to LA with us."  
  
Weiss nods, "I'll get the guys right on it," he says before turning to Sydney. "I talked to Dixon, he and your father want you back in LA for debriefing as soon as possible. We'll go right to the plane when we're finished here."  
  
Sydney nods in understanding, but doesn't say anything. Weiss exits the room and calls to the agents in the hallway. A moment later three of them enter, boxes in hand, and begin to empty the drawers and closets. One of them moves to pack up the photographs on the dresser, but Vaughn reaches out a hand to stop him.  
  
"We'll take those ourselves," he explains, gathering up the frames into a pile. Sydney moves from across the room, wordlessly taking the majority of the pile into her own arms, leaving Vaughn to juggle the rest with the teddy bears he still holds. Vaughn lets Sydney lead him back downstairs and out to the van still parked outside. She opens her suitcase, stowed carefully under one of the seats, and places the frames gently inside, the folder she retrieved from the filing cabinet earlier placed underneath. Vaughn does the same with his arm load of pictures, but keeps the bears tight in his grasp.  
  
"I think I'll keep these with me," he explains off Sydney's curious glance, placing the bears into his jacket pockets.  
  
"Ok," is her only reply. "We should go help them inside," she suggests. "Make the process go s little faster." Her expression is blank, almost. Underneath, Vaughn can see the badly concealed fear. Fear over what she must face back in LA. Fear over the memories of what happened to her, now running so rampantly through her head. But mostly, he knows, fear of the situation of their other daughter. Of where she is, of who she is with. And of what he might do to her if they don't find her in time. All the same things he is feeling at the moment.  
  
Vaughn doesn't say a word to answer Sydney's suggestion, just merely offers her a hand which she reaches out and takes gratefully. "We'll find her, Syd," he tells her, trying to sound strong and hopeful.  
  
"I hope so," is her quiet reply as together they walk slowly back into the house. 


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I apologize in advance for two things in this fic

1) I still don't get to the debrief part!

2) Lauren is in this.  In bed.  With Vaughn ducks

Dedicated to all who posted reviews for Part 1 of this.  You rock!  Once again, unbetaed.  I'm impatient.

The inky blackness of night spreads as far as his eyes can see out of the tiny airplane window, a slight grey tint beginning to show about the edges.  They are only 30 minutes out of LA, almost 5am local time.  Vaughn sighs gently as he rubs his eyes again, trying to trick his body into thinking the three hours sleep he's just had was restful and energizing.  He's not having much luck.

Truthfully, his sleep was far from restful.  It was filled with dreams – more nightmares, really – about Delilah.  And about Amelia too.  About them hurt and crying and him being powerless to stop it.  Feeling powerless is not something he does well at all, but powerless is about all he can feel at the moment.

Opposite him, Sydney cries out softly in her own restless sleep causing Vaughn to turn to her concerned.  If possible, she has slept less than he has in the last 12 hours.  She'd helped the agents pack up the nursery in Paris in almost silence, only speaking when necessary.  Several times Vaughn has tried to engage her in conversation, but the more the hours have progressed the more distant she has become.  To the point where now, she hasn't spoken a word in several hours.

Sydney fidgets in her seat, her hands grasping tighter to the blanket on her lap.  Vaughn had watched her take it from the end of Amelia's crib earlier, opting to keep it with herself rather than risk it to the hurriedly packed boxes.  From here, he can see the delicate embroidery that decorates one corner.

_Amelia _

Amelia.  His daughter.  His _other_ daughter.  The thought is still slightly alien to him.  And yet, on some level, he can't remember what life was like before he knew she existed.  Almost as if she's always been there, on some level.

But despite all these primal instincts running through him, he doesn't know what he feels like to touch her.  Or kiss her.  Or to hear the sound of her laughter in his ear.  These are things a parent should know.  Things Sydney does know.  Things she must now remember.

Vaughn can't even begin to understand the pain Sydney must be experiencing.

One thing he does know is that he will do whatever he has to do to bring their daughter back to her.  Back to her parents, and her sister.  Even if he has to kill the smarmy British bastard who's trying to be her father.

Amelia is his daughter; he is her father.  And that is something that will be true every day until the end of time.

Gently, he reaches into his jacket pockets and withdraws the small toys he had placed there earlier.  Resting them in his lap, he studies the carefully stitched names, soaking up the significance of the letters.  He thinks of Delilah, asleep in her bed back home, and suddenly he cannot wait to have her back in his arms.  To reassure him she is alive and safe.  And his. 

"Mike, we're gonna land in 10 minutes," Vaughn looks up as Weiss sits down next to him, fastening his seat belt in the process.  Weiss' eyes drift to Sydney's sleeping form for a moment before he undoes his belt again and leans over to gently wake her.  "Syd," he says quietly, one hand on her left shoulder.  "We're nearly home."  

Sydney awakes with a start, her eyes flying open as she stiffens in her chair.  For a moment she looks around the area wildly, as if unsure of where she is.  Her eyes catch Vaughn's and he notices she has tears brimming.

"Sydney, are you ok?" Vaughn is unbuckling his belt, worried.  Sydney stops her frantic movements and holds up a hand to keep him in his chair.

"I'm fine, Vaughn,  I was just dreaming and Weiss startled me."  She reaches into a pocket for a tissue to wipe at the corners of her eyes, Amelia's blanket still clutched tightly in one hand.

Weiss and Vaughn exchange a glance, then both settle back into their seats, their eyes watching her very carefully, not quite convinced she is ok.

The three agents spend the rest of the flight in silence, Weiss and Vaughn exchanging looks a few times as they watch Sydney stare blankly out of the window, her hand still fingering the blanket.  The plane lands gently on the small tarmac and rolls silently towards the terminal building.  They come to a stop and Vaughn stands, his seatbelt undone as soon as the wheels his the ground.  Sydney does the same, trying to get to the door before anyone can help her, but Vaughn is too fast.  He places a hand on her elbow, forcing her to turn around.  

"Wait for me," he says.  Sydney says nothing for a moment, then nods in defeat, sitting back down to allow Weiss to pass by.  Vaughn pockets the teddy bears once again and gathers both his case and Sydney's from the storage lockers, handing her his lighter one and carrying her slightly heavier one himself.  With a gentle hand on the small of her back he guides her towards the stairs.

The pre-dawn air is surprisingly warm and sticky, the ground shiny from a brief rainstorm.  Vaughn lets Sydney walk down first, casting his eyes to the cargo bay where Weiss is overseeing the unloading of everything from the house in Paris.  Vaughn gives his friend a wave, and Weiss returns it.  The unspoken message between them is clear.  _I need to go take care of her.  I'll see you later._

Sydney steps down onto the slick ground, Vaughn two steps behind her.  He notices a figure exit the doors of the small private terminal and begin walking towards them, something balanced delicately in his arms.  As the figure gets closer, Vaughn recognizes the stride.

Jack.  With Delilah asleep in his arms.

Sydney drops Vaughn's case and hurries over to them.  Jack gathers Delilah up, preparing to hand her over to her mother, and is startled when Sydney throws her arms around him instead.

"Daddy," she cries into his shoulder, shedding her first tears since the house in Paris.  Vaughn hurries over also to take his daughter from Jack and settle her warm body into his arms.

Nothing in the world has ever felt as good as hugging his daughter does right now.

Delilah, to her credit, has noticed none of the commotion, her eyes only flickering open briefly as she is transferred from Grand-pere to Papa.  Vaughn runs his fingers through her soft hair, so curly now that Sydney let it grow out, and begins to study every inch of her form.  

"I picked her up from Dixon's as soon as you contacted me this morning," Jack tells Vaughn.  "I thought you'd feel better knowing she was safe."

The two men exchange a glance for a moment, a silent exchange taking place.  "Thank you," Vaughn finally says, conveying far more than the meaning of those two words.  

Jack nods and turns his attention back to his own daughter, still crying in his arms, though with less desperation now.  "Sydney," he says gently.  "I need to talk to you for a moment."

Sydney slowly raises her head to look at her father, and notices seemingly for the first time her daughter, now in Vaughn's arms.

"Delilah," she mutters almost like a prayer, untangling herself from her father and crossing to Vaughn to touch her child.  Gently, Vaughn moves her sleeping form to her mothers waiting arms, placing one arm around Sydney back to steady her exhausted form under the burden of Delilah's weight.

Sydney buries her head in Delilah's neck, muttering words neither man can here, that are not intended for their ears anyway.  As they wait, Vaughn silent reaches his free hand up to run over Delilah's soft curls once again, needing to be in contact with her; to feel her warmth and know she is alive.  Jack waits silent, watching the trio before him with concerned eyes.  

"Sydney," he says finally, causing her to lift her tear stained face.  "I've talked with Dixon and he's agreed to delay your debriefing until 1pm today to allow you to get some sleep before we start."  He pauses for a moment, fidgeting in an almost nervous manner.  Not something Jack Bristow ever does.  "I want you to come home with me now, get a few hours sleep."

"Dad – " Sydney protest is cut off.

"No buts, Sydney.  I know you have things you need to talk about, many questions you can now answered and others you need answered.  But this debrief could go on for hours, possibly days, and you need to be at least somewhat rested."

"But what about Delilah?" she asks, glancing down at her daughter.

"Vaughn can take her home with him," Jack looks at Vaughn, his expressing indicating that he is not seeking approval for this plan, just expecting obedience.  

Sydney looks from her daughter up to Vaughn and then across to her father, realizing slowly this is not an optional thing.  "Sydney," Jack says as she turns to face him.  "Vaughn can take care of your daughter.  Let me take care of mine."

Sydney stares at her father for a moment, the passion of his words startling her.  "Ok," she nods.  She turns to Vaughn.  "Can you bring her in with you later?  I don't want her to be away from us today."

"Of course," Vaughn tells her, reaching over to once again move his sleeping child.  "She'll be safe.  I promise."

Sydney doesn't answer, just nods and reaches into her pocket to retrieve something.  "Here, take my car, it's got a seat."  She leans over to kiss Delilah a few more times, running her fingers down her arms and chubby little legs.  Finally, she picks up her suitcase and turns to her father.

"Let's go home, dad."

Jack reaches over and places an arm around his daughter, an attempt at comfort.  He turns to look over his shoulder at Vaughn.  "1pm.  Don't be late."  

"I won't."  Vaughn watches as Sydney and her father exit the terminal area, headed towards Jack's car.

"C'mon ma chérie," he whispers quietly to the sleeping Delilah.  "Let's go home, too."

Vaughn makes the drive home in record time; the earliness of the hour apparently a turn off for most drivers.  The sky is just beginning to lighten as he pulls Sydney's car into his usual parking space, moving around to the back to lift out the still sleeping Delilah and carry her up the stairs to his apartment.

Three minutes of carefully juggling his child later and the door is open.  Vaughn steps inside the semi-dark home and heads immediately for Delilah's room, purposely avoiding the master bedroom.  With a bit of effort, and minimal fuss, Vaughn manages to relieve Delilah of her light jacket and her shoes.  He checks her diaper, decides it's safe to leave, and lays her gently down in her crib, pulling the pale green sheets up to tuck them up over her shoulders.  Delilah fusses in her sleep, her eyes fluttering open then closed again as she settles.  His task complete, Vaughn stands beside the crib for a minute in silence, contemplating the sleeping form of his child.  

So beautiful.  So innocent.  And so much the most important part of his life.  

A sudden thought crosses his mind and Vaughn reaches into his pocket, retrieving the teddy bears from earlier.  He places Delilah's near her head, and Amelia's at the bottom of the crib with several of Delilah's other toys.  As he straightens up his eye catches the clock on the dresser which is telling him it's almost 6am.  With a sigh he realizes bed is probably a necessary thing now as he doesn't think Delilah will sleep much past 8am.  Leaning down once again he places a gentle kiss on her forehead.  "Sleep tight baby."  He quickly checks the baby monitor is on and then exits the room, headed for his own bedroom.

Vaughn opens the door slowly, peeking inside to see Lauren sleeping peacefully on her side of the bed.  He enters the room on tiptoes and quickly undresses in the bathroom, turning on his end of the baby monitor before finally climbing into bed and falling almost instantly asleep.

He is awoken by a soft hand on his forehead.  Slowly he opens his eyes, bringing the now light room into focus.  As his vision clears he realizes the hand on his forehead belongs to Lauren, who is sitting next to him on the edge of the bed.  She's obviously showered and dressed for work.

"Morning sleepyhead," she tells him, leaning over to kiss him.

"Hey," is his only reply.  "What time is it?"

"Just after 8:30.  Do you have to go into work today?"

"Yeah, at 1.  You?"

"I'm supposed to be leaving now," Lauren tells him with a smile.  "But after watching you sleeping there, I'm contemplating taking the morning off and just climbing back into bed with you."  She leans down to kiss him again.  After a minute, Vaughn pulls back, breaking their kiss as he sits up.  

"Lauren, I'm sorry but I can't," he explains.  "Delilah is here, she's asleep still.  I have to take her with me to work later."

Lauren stands up, the look on her face a combination of hurt and frustration.  "Why is she here again, Michael?  She was here before you went away, and then you've been gone two days, and now she's here again.  When are we supposed to have time alone?  Where's her mother, for Christ's sake."  Lauren stalks into the bathroom and begins rifling angrily through her makeup bag.

Vaughn climbs out of the bed and comes to stand behind her, upset at her comments yet understanding at the same time where she's coming from.  "Sydney is with her father," he begins to explain.  "Some scary stuff happened in Paris, she needed a chance to get a few decent hours sleep."  

"And of course, you had to interrupt your life – and mine – to give her what she wanted," Lauren spits at him, her hurt giving way to anger now.  "Typical.  That child is going to keep you tied to her forever."

"I hope so!" Vaughn exclaims, his own anger coming to the surface.  "Whatever you want to think, Lauren, Delilah was conceived in love.  Sydney and I have a past, yes.  But we also have a responsibility to this little girl."  And our other one, he adds to himself quietly.  "I have no intentions of not being part of their life."

"Fine," Lauren says, slamming the eye-shadow container shut.  "I just wish you'd remember that I don't have those same desires, and I never will."  She stalks back into the bedroom, gathering up her shoes.  "By the way, your daughter is crying."

Vaughn steps into the room, confused.  "No she's not, I turned on the baby monitor and I'd hear – " he turns to his bedside table to see the little green light is no longer lit.  A quick examination of the object shows that the switch is in the 'off' position.  Tossing Lauren a look Vaughn quickly crosses the room and opens the bedroom door.  He can hear the screaming instantly, pitiful desperate cries of "Maman" and "Papa" combined with choking sobs echoing down the hallway.  Jesus, she must have been at it forever.  He runs quickly down the hall to Delilah's room and scoops her sobbing form up out of the crib and into his arms.  Her face is bright red and tears and running freely down her cheeks.

"Papa!" she sobs against him, her breath coming in hitching gasps.  Vaughn cuddles her tight against him, trying to stop the tears from pricking in his own eyes.  Furious, he stalks out into the kitchen where Lauren is gathering up her keys, acting as if nothing has happened.  

"You turned of the baby monitor," he states, no part of the sentence a question.

"I thought you needed your sleep," is her only justification.  Lauren picks up her briefcase and heads for the front door, only to be headed off by a very angry Vaughn, Delilah still sobbing pitifully in his arms. 

"Nothing is more important that Delilah, Lauren.  You'd do well to remember that.  Interfere with my parenting again and there will be problems between us."

Lauren's face is a mask of blankness, not a single reaction coming from her.  "Can I go now?  I'll be late."

Vaughn stares her down for a moment, almost daring her to react.  Finally, he steps aside and lets her pass.  The door closes a moment later and Vaughn turns his attention to his daughter, shoving Lauren to the back of his mind.

It takes almost twenty minutes of rocking and softly sung Beatles songs to calm Delilah's hitching sobs to a mere trickle of tears punctuated by the occasional shudder.  Vaughn cannot begin to contemplate what has made her so upset; he can only hope it was merely nothing more than being ignored for so long.  He decides to place everything else to the back of his mind and spend the morning concentrating on Delilah alone.

By the time he drives to the Ops Centre early that afternoon Vaughn is far calmer and even has a slight smile on his face.  His morning with Delilah has proved more beneficial that either of them could have hoped (though he is a little worried after watching his daughter run amok at the park of just how energetic Amelia must be).  He only hopes Sydney used her time as efficiently and with similar benefit.

After gathering Delilah and a makeshift diaper bag – Jack still has her real one – from the back of the car, Vaughn carries his precious cargo into the building, conversing with her in gibberish and baby talk.  He's barely entered the rotunda when Sydney is upon him, Delilah squealing happily at the sight of her mother.  Sydney lifts her daughter from Vaughn's arms, cuddling her close.  She looks over Delilah's shoulder to smile sadly at Vaughn.

"Thank you for taking her," she tells him softly.  "I realize now how much I actually needed the sleep."

"So you slept?"  Vaughn asks, relieved.

"Yeah, like the dead.  Dad actually had to wake me to bring me in here."

"I'm glad, Syd."  The smile on Vaughn's face is genuine, and results in a similar smile from Sydney with a brief glimpse of the dimples he rarely sees anymore.  

"Are you ready to begin?" a voice from behind them asks.  Vaughn turns to find Jack waiting patiently for them.  

"Just give me a few more minutes," Syd tells him.  "Then I'll take her over to Carrie."

Jack nods and walks away.  "Carrie?" Vaughn asks.  

"She's come in to watch Delilah for us.  Since we both have to be in debrief."  Sydney looks to Vaughn, fear beginning to peek through the edges of her gaze.  "I just didn't want to let her get too far away," she explains, looking slightly embarrassed at her over-protectiveness.  

"It's ok," Vaughn tells her, remembering the risk Delilah had been exposed to in his own home that morning.  "I feel safer knowing she's here, too."

Vaughn watches as Sydney says goodbye to Delilah then together they deliver to the very willing arms of Carrie Bowman, who has turned Marshall's workspace into a virtual toddler's paradise of toys and colour.  Finally, Sydney turns to Vaughn.

"Let's go.  I have a lot to tell you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Amelia Chapter 3**

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, JJ Abrams and Touchstone own them.  Delilah and Amelia are mine.

Betaed in part by **Cheerio, much thanks.  **

**Suggested Soundtrack:** _My Skin by Natalie Merchant and __Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright._

*****

Sydney sits in the conference room, the faces around her expectant and quickly losing patience.  Her gazes from her father, to Dixon, to Vaughn and finally seeks out Weiss' friendly gaze, and the pair exchange a small smile before Sydney turns to the front of the room where the camera recording her debriefing is situated.

"The group that took me was the Covenant," Sydney begins, not meeting the eyes of anyone around the table.  She knows that if she watches their reactions to what she has to say, it will take much longer to get this story out.  "But they didn't take me to torture me or to punish me.  They took me to protect me.

"The first memory I have is waking up a few hours after the fight with Allison.  We were both on a private jet, flying somewhere.  I only got a brief glimpse of the medical team attending to her, she looked pretty bad.  A minute later, I was injected with something, and I was asleep again.

"Three days later I awoke fully to find myself in a makeshift hospital room, Allison unconscious in a bed beside me.  She had tubes and machines and so many things running all over her, I was surprised she was even alive.  I found I was shackled to the bed below me, unable to sit up or move very much.  I resorted to studying the room around me in an attempt to figure out where I was as I waited for someone to notice I was awake.  I assumed that they would quickly sedate me again, but a few minutes passed, and no one came.  I soon found out why.

"Finally, after an hour or so in which I decided that I was somewhere in Europe - possibly England – in a house built in the early 19th century, a man came and sat beside my bed and introduced himself, telling me he needed to talk to me.  Unfortunately, my restraints meant that I didn't have much choice but to listen to him.

"He introduced himself as Peter Solkalof and told me he was the head of The Covenant.  He assured me that he had no plans to hurt me; that I would be safe in the house, but that I was for all intents and purposes his prisoner."

"Did he explain to you who The Covenant is?" the question comes from Dixon and startles Sydney, breaking her from her new memories and ripping her back to the reality of the room around her.  She looks around for a moment, disoriented, before her eyes settle on Dixon's face.

"From what I could gather," she explains, "The Covenant is an organization that opposes anything to do with Arvin Sloane and/or The Alliance.  Solkalof told me they had been tracking his work for years through various methods he didn't explain; trying to derail the work they saw as 'evil and unnecessary'.  Mostly, they had followed closely the work Sloane had done on Rambaldi.  They were aware of how close he was to assembling the device; and they believed, like my mother did, that I was the final key to making it work and thus bringing about unspeakable destruction.

"Basically, they didn't want to see that happen.  And so they removed me from my life; made you all think I was dead.  All to protect me from Sloane and in turn, protect the world from whatever it was that Il Dire would do.

"At least," Sydney looks down at her hands, "that's what they told me."

Sydney pauses for a moment and takes a sip of water from the glass in front of her.  Across the table, Vaughn studies her carefully, watching for signs of fatigue or mental overload.  So far, she's holding up well.  After a minute, Sydney swallows and clears her throat, ready to continue.

"Content with his explanation of why I was taken, Solkalof proceeded to tell me what their plans were for me.  I was to be given a new name, a new identity.  And any memories of my old life would be removed.  I would live the rest of my life as someone else; someone unremarkable and invisible.  Only then could they be certain I was safe from Sloane.

"Originally, the plan was just to take me.  Covenant agents had been following me for days, waiting for the best opportunity to strike.  They took their chance that night after Vaughn dropped me off; they thought I was alone.  How wrong they were.

"He told me that when they found us lying in my room, it was assumed someone from Sloane's organization had attacked us and left us for dead.  One of Peter's agents found Allison in my room and assumed she was Francie.  It was decided that she would be taken with us as well, if only to save her life.  They thought she might be a good companion for me.

"Needless to say, Peter was a little surprised when I told him the truth about her.  However, he wasn't overly concerned.  As he put it, I soon wouldn't remember who she was anyway.  I was to undergo my memory removal 'treatment' immediately.

"You can probably all imagine how well I took that news."  Sydney grins slightly and looks up at her father, sheepishly.  "I told him there was no way, that I would rather be kept prisoner than undergo any 'treatment' they were offering.

"To my surprise, Solkalof seemed not to be upset over my declaration.  On the contrary, he merely smiled at me.  'If that is what you want' he told me.  'But I warn you that the medications we will be forced to sedate you with if you refuse to co operate will almost certainly lead to the death of that baby you carry'."

Vaughn's head snaps up at the menton of Sydney's pregnancy, his eyes seeking out her own.  Sydney meets his gaze as she continues, making Vaughn feel as though she is speaking only to him.  Telling only him the details surrounding the birth of their children.

"I was unable to disguise my startled look, something that caused Solkalof to grin at me.  He proceeded to tell me that they had discovered my pregnancy only a few days before, which was why I was allowed to wake up already.  Well, needless to say, I didn't believe him.  Even when I was shown blood and urine test results, I was convinced they were merely trying to get me to do what they wanted.  So Solkalof organized for an OB/GYN to come and see me and do a sonogram.  I was convinced it would prove me right; mostly because I couldn't bear the alternative thought.  It only took the doctor three minutes to find the first heartbeat, and another one to find the second.  She showed me their hearts beating, tiny blurry dots on the screen and told me I was 10 weeks pregnant."

Sydney pauses for a moment, reaching into her pocket for a tissue to dab at her eyes.  Vaughn finds to his surprise that his own eyes are moist and he quickly wipes at them with his shirt sleeve, trying to ignore the look Weiss is giving him.  He wants more than anything to cross the room right now and take Sydney in his arms; to give her comfort and strength enough to help her survive the telling of this story.  But he cant; he is forced to sit instead, and watch her pain as she continues.

"From the moment I saw the images of that screen I knew what my decision would be.  I would do whatever The Covenant wanted me to do if it meant keeping them alive and with me.  Even if it meant giving up my life as I knew it; my friends and family in LA.  I could handle it because, truly, I would always have a huge part of that life with me."  Sydney gives Vaughn a soft smile and for a moment there exists no one else in the world but the two of them.  Sydney finally turns her gaze down to her hands and continues.  

"So I told Solkalof I would do whatever they wanted me to do.  I was put to sleep one last time, and when I woke up I was no longer Sydney Bristow.  I had become Julia Thorne."

_"Julia…Julia," the voice is soft and distant, seemingly coming from far away.  Slowly light seeps into the blackness before her, shapes starting to form in the sides of her fuzzy mind._

_"Julia, it's time to wake up now," the voice urges her again as she slowly drags her eyes fully open and blinks rapidly.  After a moment, the room comes into focus and she realizes she's in an ornate four poster bed in the middle of a large, antiqued room.  Sunshine is pouring in through the open drapes, flooding the floor with light.  She turns her head to the source of the voice to find a man sitting next to her bed, his hand clutched tightly around on of hers._

_"Julia," he says, his voice relieved.  "I'm so glad you're awake."_

_"Dad," she asks, confused.  "Where am I?"_

_Peter Solkalof smiles, knowing the procedure has worked.  "You're at my house in __England__, sweetheart," he tells her, keeping the 'loving father' charade going.  "You've been asleep for three days, I was beginning to worry about you."  _

_Julia struggles to sit up, fingering the bandage on her head as she does.  "Daddy, what happened?"_

"He told me I'd been involved in a car accident with my husband and my best friend.  My husband had been killed and Allison was still in a critical condition.  I believed every word, I had no reason not to.  Somehow, they had replaced my memories with those of Julia Thorne.

"I was out of bed within a week, spending my days wandering around the extensive grounds that surrounded the remote property.  I used the time to mourn the husband I thought I had lost, and cherish the little lives growing inside me.  Solkolof treated me like a queen, spoiling me as any 'father' would spoil his child.  I was too lost in my own grief to realize that anything in his behaviour or mine was not right.

"Allison awoke three weeks after I did, her body finally healing itself enough to allow her to breathe unaided.  Peter kept me from her for the first few days, claiming she was too tired for visitors.  I realize now that he was probably preparing her for the reality of her new life, preparing her for the friendship she would have to maintain with me.

"And to her credit, she did an amazing job with that charade.  I never suspected she wasn't who I thought she was.  Allison became the best friend I'd had in Francie.  Every day we'd sit together for hours; sometimes talking, sometimes not.  She cried with me when I told her of the death of my 'husband' and she celebrated with me the bittersweet news of my pregnancy. 

"When I was five months pregnant, we moved to the house in Paris.  Allison was fully recovered by then, and Solkalof decided we were both safe to live alone.  The next two months were some of the best I had.  Every day I got bigger and bigger.  Allison and I shopped and shopped and shopped some more.  We decorated a nursery.  I lived the most normal life I could ever have hoped to live.

"And yet, I always felt like something wasn't quite right about it.  Whether it was something in myself or in Allison or in this man who I called my father, I don't know.  All I know is that often, at night, I was overwhelmed my feelings of incredible loneliness and fear that I could not seem to shake.  

"I went into labour eight weeks early, in the middle of the night.  Allison rushed me to the hospital Peter had chosen for me to attend, but despite all the doctors efforts I was forced to deliver early.  Delilah and Amelia were born on October 21st 2003, and came home five weeks after that.  

"For a year, Allison and I lived with the girls in a bizarre facsimile of domestic life.  Solkalof came occasionally to 'visit' us; trips I realize now were to make sure I was who I was supposed to be.  True to his word, no harm had befallen myself or my daughters.  Until the day The Covenant discovered how useful Allison Doren could actually be.

"Somehow they'd made the connection between her and Sark.  I don't know how, I don't think she told them.  But anyhow, they knew about the relationship the two had shared before Sark was captured.  They also knew of the connection between Sark and a Russian Diplomat by the name of Andrian Lazeray."

Sydney watches as her father's head turns in her direction, his eyes showing confusion and fear.  

"Lazeray?" Weiss asks.  "Didn't he die like 18 months ago?"

"Yeah, he did," Sydney tells him.  "I killed him."

To say the group around the table is shocked is a slight understatement.  Gob smacked, floored, blown away might all be better descriptions.  Sydney quickly continues, needing to explain herself.

"I didn't do it knowingly or willingly," she promises.  "I didn't even know I had done it until months afterwards.  During one of his 'visits' Peter had me go and kill Lazeray, and then changed my memory of the entire weekend so I had no memory of what had happened."

"But why?" Vaughn asks.  Sydney looks at him, ashamed of her actions.  In his eyes, she fears she is now no better than her mother.  

"Lazeray had money.  Lots of money.  And he knew of the Covenant's real endgame, and was unwilling to support it.  So they killed him in the hopes they could get his money, finance their operation."

"And where does Sark fit into all of this?" Dixon speaks up.

"Lazeray was his father," Sydney states simply, watching as Dixon's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.  "And, as it turned out, the sole heir to any fortune Lazeray possessed."

"And so they broke Sark out of Camp Harris so he could collect for them," Vaughn says as he puts all the pieces together, his pen tossed down onto the pad where he's been making notes.  

"Exactly," Sydney says.  "They got him to co-operate by promising to bring him back to Allison.  Which they did, on the girls' first birthday."

Sydney gets back into storyteller mode, her Q&A session done for now.  "It was a cold Autumn day," she begins.  "I remember, we were just sitting down to a late supper when the doorbell rang.  I answered it, expecting one of the neighbours, and instead found a rather good looking young man standing there.  Sark.  Except I didn't know that then; I had no memory of him at all.  And Sark showed no recollection of me either.

"He asked for Allison, who came out of the kitchen, curious.  When she saw who was at the door it was like something out of The Thorn birds.  She came running across the hall and straight to him.  I excused myself and left them to their reunion.  

"After some discussion later that evening, it was decided Julian would stay with us for a while."

"Julian?" Weiss interjects, his lips trying desperately to hide a smile.

"That's Sark's first name," Sydney states plainly, trying hard not to smile herself.  She has to admit that in retrospect, it is a rather flowery name for such a hard-assed killer.

"Anyway, Sark stayed with us for two weeks.  I was told he was Allison's high school sweetheart, come back to claim her after years apart.  Of course, I thought it was incredibly romantic and never thought to question it.  

"But something about Julian made me uncomfortable.  Or more specifically, about the way he was with Delilah and Amelia.  He lavished attention upon them from the day he arrived; so much so that Allison actually commented to him that he spent more time with the girls than with her.  At first, I thought it was sweet that he was trying so hard to be accepted into my home.  But after a while, I began to be concerned.  I would get up in the night and find Julian sitting in the nursery, one of the twins asleep in his arms.  He told me that he had heard them crying and got up to settle them.  'I thought you might prefer to sleep' he would tell me with that charismatic smile of his, making me feel like a bitch for assuming there was an ulterior motive behind his actions.  Still, it came as a relief to me when, just after Christmas, Allison told me she and Sark had decided to move to London.    
  


"I was devastated at the loss of my friend; she was the one constant in my life besides my children and the only real company I had in Paris.  But she was my friend, and I wanted what was best for her; so I hugged her goodbye and promised to visit soon.

"As it turned out, we saw each other more frequently than we could have hoped.  Julian's 'business' bought him to Paris several times and Allison came to visit.  Each time, we would take the girls out somewhere and Sark would spoil them rotten.  I never tried to stop him; I thought that he was the closest thing they would ever have to a father."

Sydney keeps her head lowered, unwilling to raise her eyes in fear of meeting Vaughn's gaze.  She knows her words must be killing him; hearing about the other man she allowed to be the father of his children.  But it happened, and she can't take it back now.  She can only hope to correct it for the future.  After a moment, Sydney takes a breath and continues.

"In March, Allison and Sark invited me and the girls to come stay with them in London.  It was the first time I had left Paris since my arrival there more than 18 months earlier, and I was a little nervous.  The entire journey I couldn't shake this feeling that something was going to go wrong.  Very wrong.

"And unfortunately, it did.

"Unbeknownst to myself, Sark had become a full blown operative for The Covenant.  He had handed them the inheritance from his father, and in return they gave him pretty much whatever he wanted.  And what he wanted, it turned out, was my children.  And Solkalof was willing to give them to me.

"My first clue that something was wrong came when we arrived at Sark and Allison's apartment in London to find enough baby supplies to run a day care centre.  Allison was going on and on about how Julian had insisted that the girls would feel at home, have enough toys to play with and wasn't that so nice?  I, however, was more concerned than flattered but I thanked him politely, and kept a very close eye on my daughters.  

"Our second day there, Allison insisted on taking me for a day spa to some ritzy place in the city.  I didn't want to go, I all but flat out refused; I didn't want to leave the girls, even for a moment.  But Allison had arranged a baby-sitter through a nanny service, and Sark wasn't home, so I finally relented, thinking they would be safe.

"We got into a car outside the apartment, and as we pulled away someone grabbed me and injected me with something that knocked me out.  I have no idea of what happened to me then because the next thing I remember is waking up in Hong Kong.  

"How long after you were in London was that?" Sydney looks up at the sound of her father's voice and quickly does a mental calculation.

"Three days, give or take.  Not long anyway."  She pauses, looking around the room at the familiar faces.  "That's my story," she tells them quietly.  "I don't know how much more I can tell you."

"Do you remember the address of Sark's place in London?" this from Dixon, already gearing up into mission-mode.

Sydney nods and gives him the Kensington address she wrote on letters to Allison so many times.  "Anything else?"

Dixon and Jack exchange a glance, the younger man deferring to his more experienced co-worker.

"I think for now we have all we need.  Analysis is already going through the boxes we took from the house in Paris, trying to find anything of importance.  I think the best thing you can do is help them with that.  You know better than they do what dates mean what and who people from that period in your life are."  Sydney nods in understanding, happy to be doing something productive.  

"What about the boxes from the nursery?" she asks.  "There's no need for analysis to look through them, they're only personal things."

"I've had them moved to my house," Jack tells her gently.  "You can go through them in your own time."

Sydney feels the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and she takes a breath, determined not to fall apart in front of the group.  "Thanks," is all she manages to say, her voice tight with emotion.

Sydney sits silent as Dixon dismisses the group and one by one they disperse, her father leaving last.  She looks around the table to find Vaughn still sitting there.  

"Hey," she tells him, her eyes full of tears.  "Quite a story, huh?"  The tears win out and she begins to cry in earnest.  Vaughn is out of his chair and across the room in an instant, gathering her up in his arms as his own tears join hers.

Together they sit, mourning the life that they should be living.  The life with each other, with their children.  The life that can never be had again, all because of people who value their own desires above all others.  They cry for themselves; for their daughters.  But mostly, they cry for each other.  Their tears speaking the words they can no longer voice to each other.

_I miss you.  I need you.  I love you._


	4. Chapter 4

**Amelia Chapter 4**

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, JJ Abrams and Touchstone own them.  Delilah and Amelia are mine.

**Dedicated to: **Everyone who wanted to see more Daddy!Sark 

**********

Vaughn turns in his seat slightly, adjusting the weight of Sydney in his arms.  They've been sitting in silence for close on 10 minutes, both of their tears drying up slowly, but neither willing to move and disturb the comfort of this familiar embrace.  

"Feel any better?" Vaughn finally asks, needing to make sure she's ok.

Sydney nods against his shoulder.  "A little.  I think it's all starting to hit me though.  The enormity of what has happened.  To all of us."

"I know," Vaughn says gently, his own brain only beginning to understand just how complex this whole situation is.  The amount of people who have involved themselves, each with their own nefarious purpose; and not one of them has a care for the consequences of their actions, as long as they get what they want.

Well, he'll be damned if he allows Sark to get away with raising Amelia as his daughter.  It's one thing to desire money or treasures or power.  But in Vaughn's mind, Sark's desire to possess Sydney's children – her _children – _is the scariest and most insane thing he's ever heard.  He won't get away with it.

"Oh, I forgot," Sydney interrupts his train of thought; pulling away from his embrace, leaving him feeling momentarily cold and almost lonely.  He watches as she browses through her bag, finally emerging triumphant.  She places a manila folder on the table and hands Vaughn three of the framed photographs they had packed up only days before.

"I thought you might like these,"  Sydney tells him as he looks at the photographs.  One is of the girls as infants, lying together on a blanket or a quilt of some kind, their little forms identical even in the way they are sleeping.  The other two frames contain individual portraits of each of his daughters, taken – he thinks, judging by the clothing – near Christmas.  Vaughn smiles as he runs his fingers over the images.  Such beautiful bright faces smile back at him, he can't help but feel slightly lifted.

"Thank you," he tells Sydney.  "This one is going straight on my desk."  Vaughn brandishes the one of both Amelia and Delilah.

"I have so many others to show you.  More photographs than you can poke a stick at.  And video, somewhere."

"Video?"

"Yeah.  Allison took a lot of videos of the girls, right from the day they were born.  I think they got packed up into one of the boxes Dixon sent to analysis.  I'll find them tomorrow."

"I'd like that."  Sydney smiles at Vaughn then opens the folder in front of her.

"Um, I need to show you something else," she tells him, taking out two pieces of paper.  "I took these from the house in Paris before the others could find them.  It's of no importance to anyone other than you and I."  

Sydney slides the papers across the table, her eyes refusing to meet Vaughn's gaze.  Slowly, Vaughn takes them in his hands, curious.  His breath stops in his throat as he realizes what he's holding.

Their birth certificates.

With his name listed under Father.  Michael Christophe Vaughn, born November 27th 1973.

"But how?" he asks, unable to come up with anything more coherent.

"I thought you were dead.  Solkalof told me Thorne was my maiden name; that I'd kept it when we married.  I think for some sick reason he wanted there to be some clue to my past that I would never remember."

Vaughn looks up from the papers in his hand to meet Sydney's gaze.  "I'm so sorry you went through all this alone," he tells her.  "I should have been there with you.  I should have been there to help you."

"No, you should have been there for yourself," she tells him.  "We should have experienced the whole things together, as a family."  Sydney's voice trails off, sadly.

"We would have," Vaughn suddenly tells her.  "If you hadn't disappeared we would be in a very different place right now.  With our children."

Sydney smiles at him sadly, her tears from earlier brimming in her eyes again.  "I know.  And that's the hardest part about all of this."

The door to the room opens, startling both Sydney and Vaughn.  They turn to see who has entered, Sydney still dabbing gently at her eyes.

"Dad," she says to Jack who closes the door behind him.  

"I was wondering if you would like a ride home," he tells her, his face its usual blank canvas.  "To your home I mean.  I don't think you should drive tonight."

"No, I agree," Sydney says vaguely.  "A ride home would be nice."

"Is Delilah coming with us?" Jack asks casting a glance in Vaughn's direction  There is a brief silent conversation between the two men after which Vaughn speaks up.

"Delilah can stay with me again tonight," he tells Sydney.  "Let you get one more good night's sleep."

"You sure?" Sydney asks, grateful for his generosity.  As much as she wants and needs to be near her daughter right now, she knows deep down that she is not fully fit to be caring for her.  Emotionally, her mind is a train wreck.  And her sleep-deprived body is not doing much better.

"Of course."  Vaughn stands, stretching his limbs slightly but discreetly.  "Why don't I bring her in here for a bit first, let her say goodbye."

Sydney nods, and Vaughn turns to the door.  "Oh, Mr Vaughn," Jack calls, causing Vaughn to turn and face him.  "I hope you don't mind, I borrowed the baby seat from your car while you were away.  I left it by your desk.  The stroller is in with Delilah."

Vaughn's eyebrows raise slightly and his forehead wrinkles, confused by this strangely courteous and helpful incantation of Jack Bristow that sits before him.  "Thanks," he says vaguely, trying for a moment to figure out exactly how Jack gained entry to his car then giving up quickly.  That man is capable of anything.

Vaughn glances back once more at Sydney, sitting silently with her father, before closing the door behind him quietly and heading in search of his daughter.  He finds Delilah sound asleep in her stroller, Carrie sitting in a desk chair beside her feeding Eliza.  

"Hey Carrie," he says softly, causing her to turn her head up to him.  "I've come to take my girl off your hands," Vaughn moves across the room and kneels down beside Delilah, leaning in to give her head a gentle kiss.  "How long has she been sleeping?" he asks curiously, brushing a wayward strand of Delilah's hair back off her cheek.  

"About an hour.  She's been pretty quiet all afternoon though," Carrie explains as she nestles her own tiny daughter up against her shoulder and begins to pat her back.  "Are you finished in debrief yet?" 

"For today, anyway," Vaughn tells her as he stands to gather up Delilah's belongings.  After shoving and hanging the bags into and onto the stroller, Vaughn turns to Carrie one last time.  "Thanks again for today, Carrie," he says, genuinely grateful for her help.  "It meant a lot to Sydney to know that she was close to us, that she was safe."

Carrie merely smiles and shrugs off his thanks.  "It's not a big deal, I was glad to help."

"Well, it's a big deal to me."  They exchange a brief smile.  "Go, take your baby home," Vaughn finally tells her.

"You too," Carrie replies.  Vaughn smiles at her once more before gently wheeling his sleeping daughter in the direction of her mother.  He pauses outside the door for a moment, kneeling down and breaking every rule Sydney has drilled into him about waking a sleeping child.  However, he feels that an exception can be made this once.  Once Delilah is somewhat alert, he opens the door and enters to find Sydney alone.  She looks up as he enters, her face breaking into a grin very reminiscent of the ones he remembers being on the receiving end of years ago.  A smile that could light up the world.

After a moment, Vaughn exits once again, leaving the two girls to have some time alone before they are separated once again.  He takes the chance to load Delilah's belongings into his car, which he finds parked exactly where he left it days ago.  By the time he goes back for his daughter, more than half an hour has passed.  He finds Delilah sitting quietly in her mothers lap, her right thumb wedged in her mouth as she listens intently to the story Sydney is reading to her.  Vaughn listens for a moment until he recognizes Dr Seuss' distinctive verse.  He waits quietly by the door until Sydney finishes the book before making his presence known.

"Hey Delilah girl," he says gently to his daughter.  "Ready to come home?"  Vaughn turns his gaze to Sydney as he asks, the questions aimed more at her.  Sydney smiles at him, and cuddles Delilah back against herself, leaning down to blow kisses on her neck.

"You be a good girl for your Papa, Delilah," she warns as she straps her back in her stroller.  "Tomorrow night we'll go home together, I promise."

Vaughn watches the interaction, giving Sydney every possible moment with their daughter.  "We'll meet you at Day Care in the morning," Vaughn promises.  "You just try and get some sleep tonight.  You need it."

Sydney tears her gaze away from her daughter to give Vaughn a look; the shadow of a smile playing on the corner of her mouth.  "Are you insinuating I'm not looking my usual pulled together self, Agent Vaughn?"

"Syd, you always look your usual fabulous pulled together self," he assures her with a smile of his own.  "I'm just suggesting that you've been through a lot the last two days and a good night's sleep wouldn't hurt you."

Sydney looks at Vaughn, her gaze soft and friendly.  "You always worry too much about me," she tells him.  

"I worry just enough," Vaughn replies.  "About you, and our daughter."

"Daughters," Sydney corrects him gently.

Vaughn looks down at his feet for a moment, a small tug of fear pulling on his heart at the mention of Amelia.  It's a strange feeling, he thinks to himself, to love someone you've never even met with every fibre of your being.  "Yeah, daughters," he says softly, touching Delilah's head gently.

Sydney turns her head away from him, reaching down to play with the teddy bear in Delilah's lap.  "Do you think we're going to get Amelia back?" she asks Vaughn, startling him into silence.  For a long minute there is silence, broken by Delilah as she reaches up to pat her Papa's hand, babbling away in her own little language to get her parents attention.  Vaughn moves his eyes to his daughters face, turned up to gaze at him intently from her perch.  He tries to imagine his life back before Delilah came into it, back when he was newly married and happily childless.  He finds his memories of that life are fading, almost to the point of non-existence.  In the end, he can't remember much about his life without Delilah.

And he can't imagine a future without Amelia, either.  

"We're going to get her back, Syd.  No question," he tells her forcefully, the determined look on his face surprising her.  "And then, we're going to spoil her rotten for the rest of her life."

**********

The evening air is stifling in its humidity as Vaughn struggles through the front door of his apartment, Delilah toddling at his feet before him.  He dumps Delilah's bags in the front hall as Donavon comes bounding down the hallway to greet them, playfully licking at Delilah and making her giggle the little belly laugh that always makes Vaughn smile. 

"Down Donny," he admonishes gently, guiding both the dog and his daughter in the direction of the kitchen.  He enters to find Lauren leaning against the bench, a mug of coffee balanced in one hand.

"Hi," she says gently, carefully.

"Hi," he replies, cold and stand-offish.  His memories of what happened earlier that day are far from distant or dim.  

"Can we talk?" Lauren asks, her tone still gentle and almost apologetic.

Vaughn turns his stern gaze to her, considering her request.  "Is there anything to talk about?" he asks her finally.  "You made yourself fairly clear this morning."  Delilah demands attention and Vaughn busies himself getting her a bottle of juice.  Satisfied, the toddler plops down on the floor with her prize; Donovan sitting beside her, his tail thumping on the tiles.

"Michael, please," Lauren says again.  Vaughn looks up from his daughter to his wife, meeting her gaze.  In her eyes he can see that she is being sincere; that she really does want to try and fix what she did.  And far be it from him to deny her the chance to at least explain herself.

"Fine," he tells her.  "But let me get her settled in the living room first," Vaughn reaches down to the floor and picks up his daughter, who grips the teat of her bottle between her teeth and squeaks in protest.  "I won't have her watch us fight."  He says in a very final tone, leaving the room.

After settling Delilah in front of a DVD of The Wiggles he returns to the kitchen.  "Talk fast, I won't leave her sitting in front of the TV all night," he tells Lauren.

Lauren takes a deep breath, then begins.  "I'm sorry about this morning.  What I did was very wrong."

"Yeah, it was," is all Vaughn offers in reply.

"Whatever difficulties I'm having dealing with Delilah and this entire situation, I shouldn't have taken them out on an innocent child.  It's not her fault."

"No, it's not.  But it's not mine either, it's not anyone's fault."  Vaughn pauses, trying to phrase the words in his head before saying them.  "This is an impossible situation we are all in, I know that.  But your behaviour in the past few months, Lauren, has made it all that much more difficult for all of us to deal with everything."  He sighs, frustrated.  "I just can't understand why you're acting this way."

"I'm jealous of her," Lauren tells him, tears beginning to brim in the corners of her eyes.

Vaughn stares at his wife in disbelief.  "You're jealous of a 2 year old child?" he asks, startled.

"No, I'm not jealous of Delilah," she explains.  "I'm jealous of Sydney."

Suddenly the pieces start to fall into place for Vaughn.  He looks once more at his wife and sees not the jealous, poorly behaved person she's been for the past few months.  Instead he sees her as she actually is; a woman who has spent the majority of her marriage living in the shadow of a past lover whom she could never hope to live up to.  

"Can't you see how hard it was for me that day?"  Lauren's tears spill over as she tries desperately to explain herself.  "I was dealing with so much already with mom being sick and everything at work and then suddenly there you were, telling me you had a child with the one woman I know you'll always love more than you love me."  She fumbles for the paper towel dispenser, wiping briskly at her eyes.  "And the moment I saw you with Delilah, I knew how much you already loved her.  How much you would always love her, because she is a part of Sydney.  And no matter how many children you and I have, nothing can ever match what you have with her.  In your eyes, Delilah is perfect because she was born out of the greatest love you've experienced your life."

Vaughn looks at his feet, somewhat ashamed at her words.  He wants to open his mouth and tell her she's wrong, tell her she's over reacting.  But he can't.  Because deep down he knows that there is at least some truth to every word she has said.

"And now that you have Amelia too, it's going to be even harder," Lauren continues causing Vaughn's head to jerk up, the look of guilt and surprise on his face unable to be hidden.  

"How do you know about Amelia?" he asks.

"I was at Ops when you were in Paris, listening in to make sure you were safe.  I heard bits and pieces of what happened, and then the rest when Weiss called in to tell Jack what was going on."  Lauren blows her nose gently, her tears now subsiding.

"That's why you turned off the baby monitor this morning," Vaughn states this more as a fact than a question.  "It was your way of dealing."

"And not a very constructive way at that," she says with a forced laugh before taking the four steps across the kitchen to stand with her husband.  "I know this will sound insincere now after everything I've done, but I want you to know that I'll do whatever I can to help you find Amelia."  Vaughn looks at her with a mixture of suspicion and confusion, wary of her motives.

"Why?"

"Because I love you," the statement is simple and clear.  "And ensuring your happiness is part of loving you.  Whatever that may take."

For a long minute, neither of them speaks of moves; they just stand where they are, their gazes locked on one another, trying to gauge the reaction of the other.  Finally, Vaughn breaks the connection and reaches over, pulling Lauren into his arms.

"I understand," he tells her simply.  "I can't forgive you for what you did - and I meant what I said this morning about interfering with my parenting – but I do understand where you're coming from."

"I'm so sorry," Lauren cries into his shoulder, her tears springing forth once again.  Vaughn says nothing, just merely rubs her shoulder.  

"Papa!" the word is garbled and Vaughn looks to the source to discover Delilah standing at his feet, the teat of her bottle clamped firmly between her teeth.  "Jus, papa!" she demands again.

"Oui bébé," Vaughn tells her, unwrapping his arms from around Lauren to comply with his daughter's request.

"I made Lasagne for dinner," Lauren tells them as she opens the door of the oven to check on it.  "I know it's her favourite," she indicates Delilah, who is now sitting happily in her highchair, a refilled bottle of juice in front of her.  

Vaughn looks from his daughter to his wife, whose face is watching him expectantly, hoping for the right reaction.

"That sounds great," he tells her, and they both smile sadly at one another.

After dinner, Lauren maintains a polite distance from Vaughn as he gets Delilah bathed and ready for bed; seeming to understand that despite their discussion Vaughn doesn't want her near his daughter right now.  The night air has hardly decreased in temperature and Vaughn keeps the central air flowing on high as he strips Delilah down to just a singlet and her diaper, tucking a bottle of water into her crib with her to keep her hydrated.  Thankfully, Delilah settles to sleep quickly and without protest, something unusual but not unheard of.  Vaughn watches her for a few minutes, wanting to make sure she is really asleep, before taking the baby monitor with him and heading in the direction of the living room.  

He channel flicks for a while before settling on a rerun of Top Gun.  Around 10 Lauren comes and says goodnight, leaving a rather chaste and tentative kiss on his forehead before heading to bed.  

As the credits of the movie roll, Vaughn finally shuts off the TV and rolls onto his back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.  He finds himself mulling over the events of the day, trying desperately to make sense of what has happened to him and his life in the past 48 hours.  The last thought that passes through his mind is of Amelia, and where she is at this very moment.  He can only hope she is safe.

**********

The rain is falling in sheets over London, fogging up the windows of the black Rolls Royce as it pulls to a stop in the street in Kensington.  In the back seat, Julian Sark cranes his neck to look carefully at the building across the way, trying to see what all the activity is.

It only takes him a minute to recognize the government agents entering and leaving the building as CIA.  Damn it, they were faster than he thought they would have been.  Oh well, he'll be out of the country within the hour.

From her car seat beside him, Ami calls out, demanding attention.  Sark turns to look at her inquisitive face, framed now by her newly-lightened dark blonde hair.  "Mama?" she asks curiously.

"Mama's not coming back," Sark tells her gently.  "It's just you and I now Ami.  Just like it should be.  But don't worry, Daddy loves you enough for both of us."  He leans over and plants a kiss on her forehead, tweaking her nose and earning a giggle for his efforts as he pulls away.

"Thomas," Sark says then, turning to the driver in the front seat.  "Heathrow if you please."

The car drives away into the wet afternoon, the fate of the occupants inside far from certain.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Amelia Chapter 5**

**Dedicated to: vally-girl2** @ ff.net because she gives the best reviews!  They always make me smile.  And to all the wonderful reviewers at SD-1.com who continue to make this the most enjoyable fandom experience I have ever had.

Betaed by the brilliant, wonderful **cheerio** who has my eternal gratitude.

**Suggested Soundtrack:** _Flake, Bubble Toes, It's All Understood_ and _F-Stop Blues_ by Jack Johnson.  More music notes at the end.

**********

"Up, up," chants the soft voice.  "Papa, up.

Vaughn wakes suddenly, something pulling him from his restless sleep. His eyes fly open to see the living room ceiling, his head slowly turning in the direction of the noise.  Delilah is standing beside him, her hair bathed in moonlight from the window, her little hand patting him gently on the arm.  He has no idea how she has gotten out of her crib.

"Oh behold the cleverness of you," Vaughn tells her causing Delilah to merely laugh as she tries to climb up onto his chest.  Vaughn quickly grabs his active daughter and sits up on the sofa, settling her soft form into his arms.  A quick glance at the clock reveals it to be just before 4am.  Very much time for Delilah's to be in bed.

"C'mon sweetheart, Papa'll sing you back to sleep."

Vaughn hoists his exhausted and poorly rested body off of the couch and heads in the direction of Delilah's room, noting that despite the air con pumping away furiously, the air in the apartment is still heavy with humidity.  He enters Delilah's room to find one side of crib lowered.  A quick examination of the item shows the locking mechanism it to be undamaged, meaning it has been lowered in the conventional way.

"How did you do that?" he asks his daughter, but she merely smiles.  "I think your maman and I need to talk about getting you a real bed soon, sweetie," he tells her as he crosses the room to turn on the small stereo he has on the dresser.  He presses 'random' on the CD player and makes his way to the rocking chair, sitting back and laying Delilah up against his shoulder.  She wiggles around for a moment, trying to find a comfortable position, but finally sticks her thumb in the right hand corner of her mouth and lays her head down on Vaughn's shoulder, her eyes focused intently on his face.

"Too hot to sleep baby?" Vaughn asks her as he starts rocking gently.  It's not often that Delilah wakes during the night, but when she does this is usually the best way to settle her down again; rocking and slow, soft music.  Tonight's selection is Jack Johnson; an album he has found in the past to be very effective in putting Delilah to sleep.  Second only to The Beatles Anthology, in his experience.  

Vaughn settles the rocking of the chair into a rhythm to match the beat of the music, singing very softly under his breath to Delilah.  Father and daughter sit like this for a long time as Vaughn watches Delilah fight sleep with every strength she has.  Finally, her eyes start to close and he slows down the rate of his rocking.

There is a click from behind him as the CD player changes to the next album.  It takes Vaughn a moment to identify the song until her hears the first lyric.

_And though your picture fades_

_A smile remains_

_Everything you've done remains_

For a moment Vaughn stops rocking, startled.  He had forgotten this song was on this CD.  Bothered by the cessation in movement, Delilah's eyes flutter open and she fusses in protest.  His concentration returned, Vaughn resumes rocking her, his hand rubbing small circles on his back as he listens to the song.

_In my heart_

_The warmth of your soul_

_Your laughter makes me cry_

"This song is about me and your maman, Delilah," he tells her softly.  "When she went away, I used to listen to it all day."

_The way you move_

_Your caress_

_The little things you did for us_

Many nights he had sat with this song on repeat, the few meagre photographs and memories of Sydney spread on the floor before him.  Usually, the bottle of bourbon had also been close by; his tears mingling with the liquid in the glass.  

_Memories of you_

_They fill my head_

_Should I laugh or cry?_

He had replayed every moment of their relationship – from the day she first walked into the CIA to the night he dropped her off, planning to come back and pick her up and take her away with him.  Every kiss, every touch; they had all bought him so much joy, and then given him so much grief and despair.  Sometimes he found he wasn't even able to smile about any of it; unable to take pleasure in the lighter moments they had shared.

Every memory had been just too painful.

_For all you were_

_You know I love you_

_An amazing part of my life_

The thing he had regretted the most about what happened to Sydney was that she'd died – or so he'd thought – not knowing just how much he had loved her.  How much he had always loved her, and for how long.  That thought had plagued him more than anything else; the knowledge that she never knew that she was his entire world.  That she was, in fact, the main reason he got out of bed in the mornings.

_And now you're gone_

_My love to you_

_This angel now has wings_

It had taken him a long time to put this song away; to hide the CD in the back of the cupboard.  To finally accept that his angel too had wings.  That Sydney wasn't going to come back to him.  But eventually he had, he had put her away; in a place where he could always find her, but where her memory didn't control him anymore.  

_And though your picture fades_

_A smile remains_

_Everything you've done remains_

Vaughn looks down at his daughter in his arms as he listens to the last of the song, a smile on his lips.  Delilah's eyes are closed, asleep finally.  He gently touches her face, awed as he often is that this little person in his arms is his daughter.  A child created out of his love for Sydney.  Their Delilah is living proof forever that they once shared the kind of love some people spend their entire lives trying to find.  

And so is Amelia, wherever she may be.  

Vaughn lifts his head from Delilah to glance at the photographs he had placed on the dresser earlier; the individual portraits of the girls that Sydney had given him earlier.  He focuses on the one of Amelia; her cheeky little face with a hint of mischievousness in her bright brown eyes.  The extent of the love he feels for her is unexplainable; as is the force of his determination to bring her back to them again.

"Never fear, Amelia," he tells the photograph.  "Papa's gonna find you and bring you home.  And then your Maman and I are never going to let you or your sister away from us again."  He pauses, leaning down to kiss Delilah gently on the head.  "I promise you," he tells both his daughters, not caring that neither of them can hear him.  Vaughn begins slowly rocking again, fitting in with the rhythm of the Ben Harper song that is now playing, not ready to relinquish Delilah to her bed just yet.  He needs to feel her close to him for just a while longer.

Sitting on the living room couch, the baby monitor in her hand, Lauren wipes quickly at the tears running down her cheeks.  She had woken up to find Michael's side of the bed unused, and came out to check on him.  Instead she'd found the couch rumpled and empty, his voice coming from the receiver of the baby monitor which was sitting on the coffee table.

She'd heard everything he'd said to his daughters.  From the song lyrics to the promises to keep them together.

Forever.

Michael, Delilah, Amelia and Sydney.  Not her.  There was no room in his promises for Lauren Reed.

And so now she must admit to herself for the first time that her marriage is over.

Lauren had begun to fear it was the end the first time she'd watched her husband take his daughter in his arms.  Since that day there have been many other times that have made her stop for a moment as the dreaded thought would scamper across her brain.

_He'll never love you as much as he loves her.  They belong together._

However, she'd ignored the words, choosing instead to try and deal with the entire situation as best as she could.  But after the events of the last two days, and the knowledge of Amelia's existence, she has to admit to herself that the end is actually here.

Now it just needs one of them to gather up the strength to admit it out loud.  To say the words, _we can't live like this any more_.

Lauren stands up, wiping at her eyes as she places the monitor on the coffee table, and walks back in the direction of the master bedroom.  She knows one thing for sure; it won't be her that says the words.  At least, not yet.

She simply doesn't have the strength.  Some poor fool part of her heart still loves him.

**********

  


The sun coming through Delilah's window disturbs Vaughn's slumber just after 6am.  It takes him a moment to figure out where he is before he looks down at his daughter, still sleeping against his chest and he realizes.  They must have fallen asleep listening to music.  With as much care as possible Vaughn stands up, intent on putting Delilah into her crib to sleep for at least a little while longer.  But she has other plans, her brown eyes flying open as soon as he moves.

"Shh ma chérie," he croons softly to her, laying her down in her crib and running his hand over her forehead to try and prevent the cranky fussing noises she's beginning to make.  But Delilah has none of it, her protests turning into full blown tears within a few minutes as she struggles to climb back out of her crib and to her Papa.  Finally, unable to bear her tears, Vaughn lifts her back out of the crib.  She is instantly silent.

Vaughn surveys his daughter with a dark look.  "Faker," he tells her simply, wiping at the tears which are left on her cheeks.  "I guess we're up for the day, huh?"

Vaughn carries his daughter through the house to the kitchen, turning the coffee maker on for himself before fetching her a drink of milk from the fridge.  Once she's contendly sucking down her drink, he attempts to place her in her high chair, but the crocodile tears appear once again.  "Delilah, baby, it's ok," he reassures her, pulling her close to him once again.  She's not normally this clingy with either he or Sydney; in fact, his little daughter is usually fiercely independent.  Granted, the last few days have been crazy for them all, he can understand if Delilah is feeling a little out of sorts.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" he asks her, brushing her damp hair back from her forehead as they wait for the coffee maker to work its magic.  The heat of yesterday is already starting to reappear; the sun coming through the kitchen window hot on his and Delilah's skin.  LA is gearing up for another scorcher of a day.

Delilah lays her head against his collarbone, removes the bottle from her mouth, and makes one request.

"Maman?" she asks, looking up at her daddy with hopeful eyes.

Vaughn feels his heart melt completely as his daughter looks at him and leans down to kiss her; desperate to reassure her that all is well.  "We'll see Maman soon," he promises.  "When I take you to day care."

"Maman, now," Delilah tells him, her eyes filling ever so slightly with those tears he has yet to be able to deny.  Her bottom lip begins to tremble as she whimpers and sniffles, attempting to make her Papa see the injustice she is being forced to endure.  Vaughn watches her for a moment, panic setting in as he tries to figure out the best way to keep her happy.  Finally, he comes up with a plan and – tossing one quick look at the clock on the stove to make sure it isn't too indecent an hour – he takes Delilah into the living room to make a phone call.

"Hello?" the voice that answers sounds concerned.

"Syd, it's me," Vaughn replies.  "I'm sorry to call you so early but I have a little girl in tears here because she wants her Maman and…well, you know me and teary Bristow women."

The sound of Sydney's laughter filters down the line, bringing a smile to Vaughn's face.  "Yeah, I know your track record.  Put her on the phone for me."

"Actually," Vaughn tells her.  "I thought we might come over and join you on your morning jog.  Take advantage of that fabulous beach at the end of your street."

"Ok, that's fine.  I'll see you in a little bit."  Vaughn bids Sydney goodbye and then hangs up.  He looks down at his daughter, whose tears have once again vanished as quickly as they appeared.  "You got your way, as usual my little troublemaker," he tells her in a voice that attempts to sound stern and fails miserably.  "Let's find your swimsuit."

Twenty minutes later, laden down with his daughter and bags of clothes for each of them, Vaughn walks through the living room headed for the front door.

"You're off early," a voice comes from behind him.  Vaughn turns around to face Lauren who is standing in the doorway to the kitchen in her dressing gown.  

"Delilah couldn't sleep," he tells her.  "I'm gonna take her to spend some time with Sydney before she has to go to day care."

"You're going straight to work from there then?" she asks, indicating the suit bag and backpack he is carrying in his left hand.  

Vaughn nods, "Yeah, I'll just get ready at Sydney's."  For a moment their eyes lock and there is silence.  Vaughn waits for Lauren to object, to pout, to…something.  But he gets no reaction.  Good, he tells himself.  Maybe she's finally beginning to accept the way things are now.

"Will you be home tonight?" Lauren asks, finally breaking the silence. 

"Yeah, I will," Vaughn's answer is distracted as he tries to stop Delilah from launching herself out of his arms and headfirst into the tiled floor.  Placing her on her feet, but maintaining a firm grasp on her hand, he turns back to Lauren.  "I'll see you when I get in."  He waits for her to cross the room; to kiss him goodbye much as she has every other morning of their marriage, but she doesn't.  "Anyway," he finally says awkwardly.  "We'd better get going."

"Have a nice day," is the only reply he gets as he closes the front door behind him.

To say Sydney looks startled when she opens the door to find Vaughn with his arms very full is an understatement.  

"Um, what?" she manages to ask around her giggles.  Delilah breaks free of her Papa's grasp and runs to Sydney, her squeals of delight echoing around the room.

"Well, if I'm taking this girl in the water," he explains, entering the apartment.  "I will need to shower and dress appropriately before I go into work.  Plus, I bought all her stuff that lives here usually, instead of having to bring it later tonight"

"True," Sydney answers vaguely, her attention focused on her daughter.  "Good thinking."  

Vaughn places the bags down on the floor and straightens up, a smile coming across his face as he watches mother and daughter interact.  Delilah puckers up her mouth and Sydney leans in to kiss her, her smile bright and her eyes sparkling.  He quickly rifles through his and Delilah's belongings until he finds his swimming trunks and quickly ducks into the bathroom to change into them, tossing an old college hockey t-shirt over his top half.  Upon his return to the front door he finds Sydney lacing up her shoes, Delilah waiting patiently at her feet.  He grabs their towels from the top of the bag and comes to stand beside them.

"You going to swim as well?" he asks Sydney and she shakes her head at him.  "No, not today.  But you two will have fun no doubt."

Together the three of them make their way down the street to the white expanse that is Manhattan Beach.  As Vaughn predicted, the morning is already not despite the fact it's not quite 7am.  The days is working it's way up to be a doozy.  Vaughn stops at the edge of the sand to remove Delilah's sandals, allowing her to run barefoot across the soft hot sand.  She makes a beeline for a flock of seagulls, screeching at them as she barrels through the group, laughing madly as the birds take flight in every which direction.

Vaughn and Sydney share a smile over their daughters' antics as they move quickly across the beach to keep up with her.  "Aren't you going jogging?" Vaughn asks Sydney curiously as she walks across the sand with him.

"I will," she promises.  "I just want to spend some time with my family first."  She smiles at him then chases after Delilah who knows the rules of this game well enough to squeal and run for her life.  

They play this game for a while, eventually getting so far down the beach that Vaughn has to point out that if they don't start heading back soon, they'll have no time to swim.  Delilah takes Sydney hand and together the two girls walk towards him.  As they reach his place in the sand, Delilah reaches up and places her free hand in his.  Vaughn looks from her to Sydney before he realizes what his daughter wants.  

"Up!" she squeals in pleasure as Sydney and Vaughn swing their arms, propelling Delilah forward, her feet kicking up sand as they go.  They continue down the beach like this, all three hand in hand, Delilah swinging forward in her parents safe grasp every 10 meters or so.  Finally, she tires of the game and breaks her hands away, chasing after a lone seagull.

Sydney grimaces as Delilah cries her own version of a war cry, scaring the poor bird out of its mind.  Delilah merely laughs and looks around for another victim.  "God, she's crazy," Vaughn comments.  "And you say Amelia is worse." He looks at Sydney with a look of pure terror on his face, the smile behind it showing through also.

"Not worse really.  She's just…different.  More stubborn than crazy.  She's gonna have a mouth on her like nothing else when she's a teenager."

"Oh god," Vaughn buries his head in his hands in mock despair.  It feel weird to be talking about Amelia like this.  Like she's just gone away for a few days and will be back soon.  Weird, but nice.  "Is she as good at the patented Bristow tears as her royal highness there is," Vaughn asks, indicating Delilah who is crouched down in the sand, staring at a shell.  

"Ten times better," Sydney tells him with a laugh.  "You may as well just give in now; accept that you're gonna be a lost cause when it comes to your daughter."

"Both of them," he tells her, turning his head to face her with a smile.  "You know how I am with Bristow women.  I can never resist."  Vaughn kicks himself mentally as soon as the words leave his mouth.

There is an awkward moment as they both try and figure out how to continue the conversation, but it is thankfully broken by a shout from Delilah as she chases yet another defenceless bird across the sand.  Sydney and Vaughn turns their gazes back ahead of them and continue walking down the beach in silence.

"I think I'm going to leave the CIA," Sydney says suddenly, breaking the silence and causing Vaughn to stop short in his tracks, looking at her with an alarmed face.  "Not now," she quickly reassures him.  "When all this is over."  Vaughn's terror is visibly lifted as he turns forward once again and continues walking. 

"I was thinking about this whole situation all last night; about the things I've lost, the time I've lost because of my involvement in this business.  And not just me either, it seems like everyone in my life has been affected by this business,"  Sydney pauses for a moment, watching as Delilah comes running towards them, throwing herself at Vaughn's shins.  He picks her up and kisses her gently, turning to look at Sydney.

"I know what you mean," is all he says, the words conveying much more.  "The extent to which these people have gone to get what they want…it disgusts me to think that this is what doing our patriotic duty has resulted in."  He looks back at Delilah, leaning down to kiss her head.  "Our own children have been used against us, taken from us.  And no matter how good a father I am to Amelia when she comes home, nothing will ever replace the two years of her life I've already missed."

Sydney takes a step closer to Vaughn and Delilah, placing her hand on her daughter's head wistfully.  "It's what they've done to the girls that kills me the most," she tells Vaughn softly.  "They were just innocent babies; they didn't ask to be born, to come into a world like this.  It's one thing to use me and 'punish' me for whatever they perceive as my crimes…but to treat innocent children the way Delilah and Amelia have been treated," she trails off as she wipes at the angry tears which have fallen onto her cheeks.  "Let's just say Sark better hope he's already dead when we find him."  Sydney leans over and kisses Delilah's cheek before taking a step back from the pair and letting out a deep breath.

"You ok?" Vaughn asks, genuine concern in his voice.  As much as this situation is eating at him and as bad as he feels, Sydney is dealing with much more difficult emotions.  Her children were taken from her right under her own nose; Vaughn doesn't even want to think how that could be affecting her.

Sydney straightens up from retying her shoe lace and meets his gaze.  Her eyes slip quickly to Delilah who is still in her Papa's arms, a smile on her face as she points towards the birds flying overhead and squeals.  Sydney's face breaks into a smile and she answers softly, "I will be."  After a moment she raises her head and indicates the jogging track along the top of the beach.  "Will you two be ok for a bit if I go for a run?"

Vaughn waves her off, "We'll be fine.  I'm gonna take little miss here into the water."

"Swim!" exclaims Delilah causing both her parents to stare at her.  

"When did she learn that?" Sydney asks, knowing Delilah has never used that word before.  

"I have no idea," Vaughn tells her with a chuckle, cuddling Delilah close to kiss her.  

"She's just too smart for her own good this one."

"She certainly is," Vaughn gives Sydney a quick glance, the pride over their daughter's new achievement evident on both their faces.  "Which reminds me, we need to have a discussion about the fact she can now climb out of her crib."

Sydney's eyes widen and she chuckles.  "Oh god, can we leave that until later?"

"Deal," Vaughn agrees with a laugh.  "We'll see you when you get back."

Sydney nods and jogs slowly up the sand, headed for the jogging trail.  Vaughn finds a patch of sand on which to throw the towels and his shoes, then with Delilah held tight in his arms, they wade into the shallows of the Pacific.

They have been playing in the waves for about 10 minutes, Vaughn dunking Delilah under the water a few times to get her used to it.  They've only been in the ocean a few times previous, and she's still getting a feel for it all.  He's jumping through some of the smaller waves with her when he spies Sydney walking slowly down the sand towards them, her head down as she stares at nothing in particular.  

"Time to go ma belle fille," he says vaguely as they walk towards the shore, his eyes not leaving Sydney's figure on the sand.  "Syd, what's wrong," he asks as he gets closer and sees the look on her face.  It's a mixture of shock, sadness and pure unadulterated disgust.  He realizes she's staring at her cell phone, which is sitting in her hand.

"It's Allison," she says softly, her voice sounding distracted and far away.  

"What, have they found her?" Vaughn asks frantically as he quickly wraps Delilah up in her towel and comes to stand beside Sydney.

"They raided the address I gave them in London.  Sark was gone but they found Allison's body.  She was shot point blank in the back of the head."  Sydney's tone is flat and even, but Vaughn can sense a hint of something – fear? – creeping in about the edges.

"I don't know what to say," he tells her truthfully.  To him Allison Doren is a villain of this piece, but to Sydney she was – and still is - something far different.  He's not quite sure what she will feel about this development.  "Do they know how long ago Sark left, or if he took Amelia with him?"  Vaughn asks, anxious for any information that may help them find their daughter.

"They estimate Allison died about 4 or 5 hours after she left me in Paris,"  Sydney tells him.  "About 5am London time."  She turns her head up, finally meeting Vaughn's gaze for the first time.  He is taken aback by the look there; desperation and hatred mixed in with sadness and a chilling hint of vengeance.  "They found her body in the nursery.  It looks like Sark killed her in front of Amelia."

Vaughn doesn't have time to process her words as Sydney falls to her knees on the sand, retching desperately as her morning coffee makes a reappearance.  He is at her side in a moment, Delilah standing beside him, confused.  He places a hand on Sydney's back trying to soothe her frantic state.  "We'll find him, Syd," he tells her, the venom in his tone startling him.  "If it's the last thing I do, I'll make him pay for this."

Even, he tells himself, if I have to kill the bastard myself.

**********

**NOTE:** The song Vaughn is listening to is called **_Nee Chisholm_** and it's by a local Melbourne band called **Voice Pop Foible**. They are incredible, the guitarist is a friend of mine. This song is just hands down one of most beautiful songs I have ever heard in my life. To listen to an MP3 of it, click here to download it in zip format. I cannot recommend this song enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Amelia Chapter 6**

**Dedicated:** to **DarlingSaila** and **Vartan88** coz Kiah (Kaia) is the new black *g*  Also to everyone who has read and reviewed this, despite how long it's taken me to get this chapter out :)

**Muse-ic:** _Slide_ by Dido, _Jumper_ by Third Eye Blind, _Simon_ by Lifehouse

***************

Previously in Amelia:

_Vaughn doesn't have time to process her words as Sydney falls to her knees on the sand, retching desperately as her morning coffee makes a reappearance.  He is at her side in a moment, Delilah standing beside him, confused.  He places a hand on __Sydney__'s back trying to soothe her frantic state.  "We'll find him, Syd," he tells her, the venom in his tone startling him.  "If it's the last thing I do, I'll make him pay for this."_

_Even, he tells himself, if I have to kill the bastard myself._

Vaughn and Sydney enter the ops centre 45 minutes later, Delilah clutched desperately in her mother's arms.  Vaughn had taken Sydney back to her house long enough only to quickly change his clothes and get Delilah ready before they'd headed off, the question of whether or not they should stop at Delilah's day care first answered silently when Sydney refused to let her out of her sight.  

The first familiar face they come across is Weiss, who hurries across the rotunda towards them.

"Hey, you're here. Good,"  he greets Vaughn then looks down at Delilah who yells his name in her own greeting, her smile the only one present on anyone in the room.  "You're not going to day care today, gorgeous?" he asks Delilah in his usual flirting/teasing tone.  

"I've just been told my other daughter has been exposed to god-only-know what kind of unspeakable evil, do you really think I'm going to let this one out of my sight?"  Sydney's voice is stern and biting, the anger not hidden in the slightest.  Weiss looks at her with slight fear on his face, his eyes wide as he steps back slightly.  

"I didn't say anything Syd," he says quickly.  "I was just talking to the girl."

Sydney's face falls as she realizes what she said and she steps towards Weiss.  "Eric, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to – "

Weiss reaches over and places one hand on Sydney's shoulder.  "I understand, life sucks at the moment."  He turns to Vaughn.  "Dixon wants to see all of us in ten minutes.  I was about to call you and see how far away you were."

"We'll be there," Vaughn tells his friend distractedly as he keeps his attention focussed on Sydney out of the corner of his eye.  He can see the tears in her eyes now as she clutches even tighter at Delilah.  

Delilah is beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable in her mother's vice-like grasp, as evidenced by the way she's squirming.  "Down," she requests, but Sydney appears not to listen.  "Down, Maman!" Delilah asks, louder this time, the frustration and fear on her face finally coming through.  She turns her head up to Vaughn, her eyes wide.  "Papa, down!" she asks desperately as Sydney merely shushes her and holds her closer.

"Syd," he says gently, touching her hand with his own.  "Why don't you let Eric take Delilah for a minute."  A quick glance at his friend shows Weiss is happy with this decision.  Sydney, however, doesn't seem to be listening as she simply continues to hold Delilah against her chest, tears slipping down her cheeks as she rests her head on her daughters', eyes staring off into space.  

Delilah begins to squirm more, getting more an more upset.  "Maman, ouch," she complains.  "Down."  Vaughn reaches over and places his hands under Delilah's arms in an attempt to lift her away.  Sydney turns to him, startled.

"Sydney, please," he says, his eyes meeting hers.  "Give Delilah to me."

Sydney finally relaxes her grip on Delilah, allowing Vaughn to lift the agitated child into his own arms long enough to kiss her on the temple before handing her off to Weiss' waiting arms.  

"Hey midget, let's go annoy Marshall for a bit," Weiss tells Delilah, meeting Vaughn's gaze for a moment before walking in the direction of Marshall's office.  

Vaughn turns back to Sydney, who is just standing in the same position, her eyes facing downward slightly but unfocussed on anything.  He steps close to her, placing his hands on her upper arms in an attempt to get her to look at him.  "Sydney?" he asks, trying to get her attention.  "Syd, look at me please."  Vaughn is aware that his voice is starting to take on a pleading tone, but he's beginning to get a little worried about Sydney.  He fears that everything she has had to deal with in the last week is finally taking its toll on her, both mentally and physically.  When Sydney still refuses to meet his gaze or even acknowledge his presence, Vaughn takes her my the arm and gently moves her out of the main rotunda into one of the empty rooms off the hallway.  Time to get serious.

"Sydney Annabeth Bristow, you need to look at me right now," he tells her forcefully, placing one hand underneath her chin and physically lifting her face to meet his.  Her eyes are moist and low, and he can see the combination of fear and anger mixed in with a slight touch of shame.  "I know that this is hard," Vaughn begins, his eyes not leaving her face.  "You've had an awful lot of shit thrown at you in these past few days.  But as hard as all this is, you need to keep going.  We both do.  Because the one rule we have to abide by as parents is this: we don't get to fall apart.  Not when the safety and the happiness of our children is at risk, do you understand?"  

Sydney hesitates for a moment before nodding so slightly, that Vaughn isn't sure he saw it.  "Syd, look at me and tell me you understand," he requests.  Finally, Sydney lifts her head, the tears flowing freely.  

"I understand," she tells him, finally meeting his gaze with her own.  

"Good," Vaughn all but breathes the word as he reaches over and pulls Sydney tight against him, leaning his head down to rest against hers.  "Now we have five minutes to pull ourselves together, then we have to go back out there and put our heads into the game."

Sydney nods against his shoulder in agreement.  "Mind if I cry just a little bit more first?"

Vaughn laughs softly and wraps his arms around her tighter.  "Go right ahead.  I'm not going anywhere."

**********

Sydney and Vaughn slip into the debrief at the last moment, Weiss a few steps behind them.  Delilah has been reclaimed by her mother's arms and is sitting there happily, the foot of a stuffed Kermit The Frog shoved into her mouth.

Jack and Dixon both give Sydney a questioning look as she and Delilah take a seat, obviously curious as to the reason for Delilah's presence.  Sydney looks at both of them with an expression that clearly dares either of them to comment of object.  Both men wisely remain silent.

After a moment in which all those around the table get settled, Jack stands up and walks to the display screens at the front of the room.  "Julian Sark," he begins, indicating the image that has appeared on the screen behind him.  "As you know, he escaped from our custody almost a year ago.  Up until now, we had no idea of his whereabouts; but thanks to some valuable intel from Agent Bristow," Jack looks briefly at his daughter, who's attention is focused on keeping Delilah quiet on her lap.  "the MI-5 on order of the CIA raided a London address early this morning.  The apartment is believed to have been the residence of Mr Sark over the past few months."  Jack pauses for a moment before continuing.

"However, by the time we got there Sark had long since fled the building, leaving behind the body of Allison Doren, whom we presume he killed sometime before fleeing."  Jack presses a button on the remote and the image on the screen changes to show Allison on the floor of the nursery.  "At this time, we believe that Sark is not travelling alone, but is in the company of Amelia Vaughn."  

A quick press, and the screen changes again to show a new series of images.  Taken from a security cameras feed, they are grainy and colourless, but clearly show Sark stepping off of an elevator, a small child balanced in his arms.  

Sydney and Vaughn move closer to the screens instinctively, trying to get a glance at the child on the screen.  It isn't until the fourth shot that they can see her properly, her face in profile as she points ahead of her to something off screen.  The hair pulled into a high ponytail on her head is unnaturally lighter than it should be, but there is not mistaking her eyes of the shape of her face.

"Amelia." Sydney says the word so softly it's almost like a breath.  She reaches out and touches the image on the screen, the room around her completely fading into the background.  

"He's dyed her hair," Vaughn's voice comes from her left.  "She looks more like him now."

"She'll never look like him," Sydney says defensively, her determined gaze meeting Vaughn's equally angry and unwavering eyes.

Delilah who is sitting quietly in her mother's arms, leans forward across the desk, her chubby little hand pointing at the image on the screen.  "Mia, maman," she says, craning her little head upwards to look at Sydney.  "Mia go, maman?"  The jumble of words is a question that Sydney understands immediately.  

"Mia will be back soon, Delilah," Vaughn leans over from his seat to reassure his daughter.  "Maman and Papa are going to bring her home to you."  He turns his gaze to the front of the room, bravely meeting eyes with Jack Bristow.  "Aren't we."  For a moment the men stare each other down, the implications of Vaughn's request clear to everyone.

"After discussion with both the FBI and the director of the CIA," Jack begins, turning his gaze to Sydney.  "It has been decided that we can take any steps necessary to ensure the capture of Sark, which will hopefully lead to the return of Amelia," Sydney visibly relaxes, leaning down to place a kiss on Delilah's head.   

"What did you find in London?" Vaughn wants to know, eager to get down to business.

"Not a lot," Jack admits a little reluctantly.  "However, we were able to seize a great deal of Sark's property including access to several bank accounts he had.  We're assuming for now that he has fled somewhere into Europe.  We've requested patient manifests from all flights out of Heathrow for 24 hours after Allison Doren's murder, but that will be a difficult way to trace him."  

"However, the fact that he has Amelia with him works to our advantage," Dixon adds.  "It gives us something to look for, a man travelling with a toddler often stands out."

"What's all well and good," Sydney says, the tone of her voice strained, "but do we have any leads at the moment?"  The hint of frustration that she had hidden so well earlier is now showing through as well.

Jack and Dixon exchange a glance, before Dixon speaks up.  "No, we don't have anything concrete yet."  Dixon grimaces internally as he watches Sydney slump visibly in her seat.  "However, most of what we got from London is still in analysis.  We are optimistic that they will discover something yet."  

"And until then" Jack continues, his comments directed at Sydney, "I think you should continue to liaise with the analysts working on the intel from Paris.  You never know what you might remember that could help us." 

Sydney nods her accord and Jack looks back at Dixon to continue.  "I don't think there is anything else we need to discuss now," Dixon tells the group.  "We'll let you all know if anything comes up."

The occupants of the room quickly stand, talking quietly amongst themselves as they exit.  

"Sydney," Jack calls as she moves to leave the room with Vaughn, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Sydney looks up at her father, confused.  "Yeah, sure."  She stands up and hands Delilah over to Vaughn.  "Can you take her outside for a minute?" she asks him, but Jack interrupts before Vaughn has a chance to reply.

"Actually, this concerns Agent Vaughn too," he tells them.  "I'd like him to stay." 

Vaughn exchanges a confused glance with Sydney before turning back to Jack, "Sure, I'll stay."  He sits back down in his chair, settling Delilah on his lap.  Sydney sits next to him and together they look across the table to Jack, waiting expectantly for what he has to say.

"I want you to know that I will do whatever I can to help you get your daughter back," Jack begins after half a minute of silence.  "And also to protect you and Delilah from any harm you might face."

"Thank you dad," Sydney tells him, a smile on her face.  "That means a lot to me."

Jack doesn't react to her statement, but moves across to the door and opens it, leaning out and gesturing to someone to enter.  A handsome looking woman in – at Sydney's guess – her mid forties enters the room with Jack.  She has dark auburn hair cut to her shoulders and a warm inviting face.  "Sydney, Agent Vaughn, I'd like you to meet Molly Brown," the woman crosses the room and shakes hands with both Sydney and Vaughn before stepping back to stand near Jack.  

"Molly is former CIA; I worked with her many years ago before she left the agency to raise her family," Jack explains.  "She was one of the best agents in her class at Langley, and now she runs a private security firm.  I've hired her to act as Delilah's bodyguard."

For a moment the silence around the table is deafening; Sydney speaks first.  "What do you mean, bodyguard?"

"Molly and a team of four of her best workers will be guarding Delilah and yourself from now on," Jack explains simply.  "They will spend the majority of their time with Delilah at day care, but they will also guard you both from a distance when you are at home or when Delilah is with her father."

Vaughn looks at Jack, his thoughts a combination of touched and surprised, with a slight hint of pissed off sitting in the very back.  "What makes you think we can't protect her ourselves?" he asks.  "Sydney and I are two of the best agents this agency has, we can take care of our own daughter."

"I'm not suggesting you can't, Agent Vaughn," Jack explains.  "I just know that both of you will feel safer and be able to concentrate better on your work at hand if you know that Delilah is safe and protected, no matter where she is."  He pauses, looking down at his hands for a moment; the rare display of a slip in control startling Sydney.  "I will also feel better knowing she is safe, at all times.  That you're both safe."  

"How did you get Langley to approve this?" Vaughn asks, amazed that Jack would have the sway to authorize a task of this size.

"I didn't," Jack tells the younger agent.  "I organized this myself; it's being financed privately."

Sydney watches her father for a moment, her heart realizing her father's motivations are pure.  He may coat his intentions in what is best for the CIA, but in the end he just wants to keep his little girl safe.  She searches for a few minutes for the right words to express the extreme love and gratitude she's feeling right now and fails slightly.  "Thank you dad," is all she finally says.  

Jack nods slightly, understanding the full meaning of her simple words.  He turns to Molly.  "Why don't you go grab a coffee; Sydney will come find you when she's ready to take Delilah to day care."  Molly bids them all goodbye and steps into the hall, closing the door behind her.  Jack turns back to Sydney.  "There is something else I would like to ask you," he tells her.  "Another suggestion I have to help us all protect Delilah as best we can."  Jack gazes quickly over at his granddaughter, who is intently staring at his face as she chews on her toy.  

Sydney and Vaughn are also looking at Jack expectantly, waiting for him to continue, both unsure as to what he might possibly have to tell them.  Jack doesn't look fazed by their scrutiny, but Sydney can see by the way he is twitching his hands, clasped on the table before him, that whatever he has to say is something difficult.  

"I think you and Delilah should move back home.  With me.  You should – I mean to say I would like it, if you came back home to live with me.  At least until we've captured Sark and everyone's safety is more assured."

Stunned silence fills the room as Sydney and Vaughn stare at Jack, each wondering to themselves if they have perhaps entered a parallel universe.  "You want us to come and live with you?" Sydney breaks the silence after a moment, unable to hide the pure shock in her voice.  Next to her, Vaughn sits still silent, his head bent down to look as though he is kissing Delilah's head; when it truth his is trying to hide the grin Sydney's reaction has caused to appear on his face.  

"Yes, I do," Jack answers simply.  "I've already lost you once, Sydney.  I don't want to take any risks that might let it happen again."  

Sydney smiles at her father, visibly touched by his offer.  "Can I think about it for a few days?" she asks him.  "I need to consider not just what's best for me, but for Delilah as well."  

Jack nods.  "I wouldn't expect any less," he tells her.  "I have a meeting with Devlin to update him on the situation," Jack stands and moves to leave the room.

"Dad," Sydney calls after him.  "Thank you for asking," she tells Jack, who merely nods and then leaves the room.  

Sydney turns to Vaughn.  "What just happened here?"

Vaughn looks at her for a moment, attempting to formulate an answer.  "I have no idea," he tells in a trying-to-sound-serious tone, the smile on his face giving away the true level of his amusement.  

"Do you think I should do it?" she asks.  "Should I take Delilah and move back home?"  Vaughn can see the confusion in Sydney's eyes.  Her father's offer has come from the heart, and is a genuine attempt to reconcile the differences he and Sydney have shared over the years.  Still, Vaughn can see that Sydney is still conflicted, the memories of his less-than-stellar behaviour over the years still fresh in her mind.

"He really does love you, Sydney," Vaughn chooses his words carefully.  "And if he wants to do whatever he can to protect you and Delilah, I'm not going to attempt to stop him."  Vaughn lifts Delilah up to face him, planting several kisses on her face as she squeals in delight.  "Raising our children and keeping them safe is the most important job we will ever have, Sydney.  Your father understands that better than you or I do because – whether he was good at it or not – he's been doing it for more than 30 years."  Vaughn places Delilah back into his lap and looks at Sydney, reaching his hand out to touch hers.  "He wants to help us do our jobs – our work here at the CIA and our life with Delilah – better.  I for one thing we should let him."  Sydney looks down at their joined hands then up at Vaughn before her eyes finally fall on Delilah.  She is playing with Vaughn's tie, which he has loosened to prevent her from cutting of his air supply.  

Vaughn is right.  Her father has been a parent for far longer than her.  And despite the fact that his technique hasn't always been the best, almost everything he has done in that time has been for what he has perceived to be her best interest.  Even now, hiring the security detail, asking her to move in…he's doing it to make her feel better about Delilah's safety.  To make her happier and more comfortable.  She has to admit it feels nice to be taken care of to a degree.  

"Delilah," Sydney tells her daughter who looks up at her mother expectantly.  "I think you and I are going to get to know your Grand-pere very well."  Delilah, understanding hardly a word, merely babbles back at her mother and reaches her arms toward Sydney, who takes her willingly.  

"We'd better get her to day care," Sydney tells Vaughn, who is watching the pair with a smile.  "The sooner we get back to work on this, the sooner we'll have Amelia back with us."

Vaughn nods in agreement as he holds the door open for his girls, following them out into the hallway to find Molly and take Delilah over the building that houses her day care centre.  There is still much to be discussed; many things in his life, his job and his relationship with his daughter and his wife that need to be resolved.  But for now, they all have to take a backseat.  Because finding Amelia has become the most important task he's ever had.

**************

The landscape is far drier than London had been when they left, Sark notes as they leave the hustle of the city behind them.  In the backseat Amelia is passed out in her car seat, the time change and the flight combining to exhaust her little body.  Sark glances quickly in the rear vision mirror to check on her, and smiles at the sight.  

"Don't worry, Ami," he tells her softly, fully aware she can't hear him.  "We'll be there soon."

Soon translates into almost two hours later, much to Sark's annoyance.  Finally, he pulls the unremarkable rental car into a sprawling circular driveway in front of a stunningly beautiful historic home and kills the engine outside the front door.  The cessation of motion is enough to wake Amelia, who opens her eyes slowly, voicing her protest in the form of a whiney, frustrated cry.

"Ami baby," Sark croons to her as he opens the back door and releases her from her seat restraints.  "We're here now, Ami.  Time to meet your Grandmother."

"Julian?" a voice calls as the front door opens, a figure stepping out onto the stoop.  "Is that you?"  The woman walks elegantly down the four steps to the driveway, coming around the car to see him with Amelia in his arms.

"Hello Irina," Sark moves to her side and offers her a polite kiss on the cheek.  "Thank you for letting us stay."

"You know you're always welcome, Julian." she places a gentle hand on his shoulder.  "Is this your daughter?" 

Sark nods, turning Ami around in his arms to face Irina.  "This is Ami.  Ami, this is your Grandmother Irina."

Irina places a hand on Amelia's hair, smoothing it back from her face.  "She's beautiful, Julian."  Amelia stares at her intently, her dark brown eyes boring into Irina's own.  "I hope you'll be very happy here, my darling,"

"She will be," Sark smiles at his daughter.  "We both will be."

Irina gestures to a man standing by the door to come and get the bags from the car.  "Come Julian, I'll show you where you can put Ami down to sleep."  Irina takes Sark's free arm in hers and together the they walk up the stairs and into the house, Amelia staring intently ay Irina the whole way.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Notes: This took me WAY too long and I am so so so sorry. I hope it's worth the wait, if anyone is still reading :)  
  
Dedicated: to the kids at The Kids for making my daily working life indescribably wonderful.

* * *

The weeks pass far too quickly with no new leads on Sark or Amelia. On the last Saturday in July, Sydney moves her and Delilah out of their apartment in Manhattan Beach and into her childhood home. It seems almost unbelievable to her that she is once again sleeping under the same roof she vowed never to sleep under again so many years ago. Sydney delights in turning her childhood room into Delilah's nursery, carefully taking all the furniture and décor she had carefully chosen from her old apartment and transplanting it to her father's house. Delilah takes to her new surroundings like a duck to water and within days Jack Bristow's neat and orderly home has the marks of a toddler all over it.  
  
From the tiny shoes in the front hall and the high chair at the dining table to the framed photographs and toys scattered throughout the main living areas, Delilah Larkin Bristow Vaughn manages to imprint herself upon almost every aspect of her grandfather's life. Sydney watches it all from a distance with amusement as her father slowly lets down his guard piece by piece, finally allowing his granddaughter to win him over. By the second week in August, Delilah has Jack wrapped completely around her little finger.  
  
That same week, Lauren's mother suffers a serious stroke and Lauren takes a weeks compassionate leave from the NSC and flies to be by her side. One week turns into two, which turns into a month, which turns into a leave of absence of an undetermined length. In the end, September is drawing to a close by the time she comes home.  
  
However, Vaughn doesn't feel her absence as much as he thought he would have. Their phone calls, daily in the beginning, slowly trickle down to every few days, until eventually Vaughn goes a week without hearing from her. Even when he finds out she is coming home, the news isn't as exciting as he thought it would be. There has been just so much going on in his life in the time she's been gone, that he's barely had time to think.  
  
Vaughn, Sydney, Weiss and Jack have been working solely on the search for Sark (and Amelia), using every contact and source of information any of them can think of without any real success. All they have been able to discover is that they are in Europe somewhere, but have no real leads on where in begin their search. After hours, Vaughn and Sydney spend as much time with Delilah as possible, one benefit of Lauren's absence being Vaughn's ability to spend an unlimited amount of guilt-free time with his child. Molly and her crew (Randy, Melissa, Isabel and James) have continue their tireless work, guarding Delilah around the clock.  
  
The first week of October brings a freak cold snap with freezing winds and gloomy overcast days. It also brings a case of the sniffles to Delilah Vaughn which quickly turns into a raging ear infection. After three days of tag-teaming time off of work to stay at home with her, Sydney and Vaughn end up together one Thursday night, sitting in Delilah's bedroom as they watch her struggle to sleep. Earlier that day Delilah had spiked a fever again and Vaughn had noticed the slight cough she'd had since the early days of her cold was becoming more frequent. Over the course of the evening she has only gotten worse, to the point where neither Sydney nor Vaughn wants to leave her.  
  
"Aren't you glad we didn't get her a proper bed yet?" Sydney asks Vaughn in a teasing tone as she watches Delilah tossing and turning in her restless sleep, the rails of her crib the only barrier keeping her from tumbling to the carpeted floor below.  
  
Vaughn smiles a little, grateful for the humour to lighten the mood in the room. He had been forced to call Sydney home from work hours ago when Delilah's temperature had risen again, causing the little girl to feel very uncomfortable and cry unrelenting for an hour for her Maman. Between the two of them they had managed to coax a dose of Tylenol down Delilah's unwilling throat which had cooled her down slightly. It had taken almost two hours of rocking and singing and pacing the floor before Delilah had swallowed a bottle of watered down juice – her only real sustenance for the evening – and fallen asleep in a restless and sweaty heap in her father's arms.  
  
That was an hour ago, and Sydney is fearful that the Tylenol was starting to wear off. In the past 10 minutes her daughter had begun to cough with more frequency, the affliction taking on a decidedly barking quality. She holds her breath once more as Delilah rolls over in her crib, one pyjama clad leg slipping through the bars to dangle towards the floor. However, much to Sydney and Vaughn's relief, she doesn't wake, and settles down once more.  
  
"I hope she's better for her birthday next week," Vaughn says out of the blue, trying to keep the conversation in the room light. "My mother will be devastated if she's sick."  
  
Sydney turns to Vaughn, a look of surprise on her face. "Your mother is in town? You didn't tell me that."  
  
Vaughn looks appropriately sheepish, and diverts his gaze down to his knees. "It was supposed to be a surprise. She called me yesterday and told me that there was no way in hell she was going to miss her only grandchild's birthday – at least not this year – and that I was not to argue with her, just to pick her up from the airport on Wednesday."  
  
"She's coming all this way just to meet Delilah?" Sydney asks, her heart touched by the gesture. Sydney knows that Celeste Vaughn was told about her grandchild – grandchildren, actually – almost as soon as Vaughn knew about them, but she didn't realize that the elder Vaughn would be so eager to come and visit. "Is she staying with you?"  
  
"Unfortunately, yes," Vaughn looks at Sydney with a pained expression. "Maman likes to come and stay with us so she can criticize Lauren's ability as a housekeeper and wife. Basically, she likes to reassure herself that no one will ever take care of me as well as she did. But yes, she is coming to meet Delilah; she's been waiting for an excuse to come ever since I told her about her."  
  
"Really?" Sydney is unable to hide the happy smile on her face. "Well, I'm sure that Delilah will be ecstatic to meet her too." She moves over to the crib and attempts to straighten the blankets over her daughter's form. "Well, as long as she's feeling better, anyway."  
  
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Vaughn attempts to sound reassuring, attempting to convince himself of Delilah's positive prognosis as much as Sydney.  
  
"So how is Lauren doing?" Sydney's question catches Vaughn off guard and he whips his heard around to look at her as she sits back down beside the crib.  
  
"She's ok. She's still on the phone back east a lot, checking on her mother. But the rehabilitation is going well, and they think Marie might make it home by the end of the month."  
  
"That's wonderful, it must be a weight off of Lauren's mind," Sydney attempts to sound genuinely concerned as opposed to merely polite.  
  
"It is," Vaughn tells Sydney, trying as quickly as possible to get out of this conversation. He has no desire whatsoever to discuss his wife right now, or the strange facsimile of a marriage they are currently living in.  
  
The woman who came back from Virginia three weeks ago and the woman he married almost a year ago are two completely different people. At first, he had assumed the change in Lauren had been due to her extended time away combined with the terrible ordeal she had gone through with her mother; but now he isn't so sure. She's become distant with him at work and at home. She no longer complains or even raises an eyebrow when Delilah stays with them; she hasn't once objected to the large amounts of time he has spent at Sydney's house. In the beginning he was delighted with her acceptance of the changes in his life; but now her unchallenged compliance is starting to make him worry.  
  
Vaughn pushes all thoughts of his wife to the back of his mind, desperate to move on to another subject. "I'm going to go get some coffee," he announces, standing up from his position on the floor and trying not to grimace as he hears his joints creak slightly. "You want some?"  
  
Sydney looks up from where she is sitting in the glider, pulled close to the side of the crib. "Yeah, that'd be great," she tells him. Delilah breaks into a stream of coughing, and Sydney quickly turns back to her daughter as Delilah chokes and barks and eventually catches her breath. "She's sounding worse than she did an hour ago," Sydney says to Vaughn as she reaches an arm into the crib to stroke Delilah's sweaty forehead, the little girl turning instinctively toward her mother in her sleep.  
  
Vaughn watches from the doorway for a moment, mentally running over the options of what to do in his head. "Listen, if she's not doing any better in an hour," he indicates the clock on the wall which is pointing to sometime just past 11, "then we'll take her to the Emergency Room." Sydney nods in agreement, her eyes not leaving Delilah. "For now, I'll go get us some coffee. I have a feeling we're going to need it tonight."  
  
Sydney smiles at him as he leaves the room. Vaughn quickly navigates his way easily through the darkened hallways, down the stairs and into the large kitchen. It still seems alien to him that he knows the layout of Jack Bristow's house almost as well as he knows his own; he has spent more time here in the past few months that he could ever have thought possible. But if that time has taught him anything at all, it is that usually what you think to be the least possible thing to occur will occur.  
  
As Vaughn is giving Sydney's coffee a final stir, the object of his wonderings comes in the back door. "Agent Vaughn," Jack greets, his voice showing no surprise at seeing the younger agent standing in his kitchen at midnight. The other thing Vaughn has learned in recent times is that Jack Bristow is a man of many layers, and that he was wrong to ever judge him by what he saw on the surface. "How's Delilah?" Jack asks, concerned for his granddaughter.  
  
"Not good," Vaughn tells him as he picks up the two mugs from the bench. "Her cough is only getting worse; Sydney and I are going to take her to the ER if she doesn't improve in the next hour."  
  
Jack lays his coat and briefcase down on the kitchen counter before moving across the room to hold open the kitchen door for Vaughn. "How's Sydney coping?" he asks as the two men make their way back up the stairs and down the hallway toward Delilah's room.  
  
"She's doing ok," Vaughn tells him. "She's worried though, and feeling a little bit powerless. I think we both are."  
  
"There is nothing worse than having a sick child who you can't magically make better," Jack tells Vaughn in a worldly, wisdom-filled tone as they enter Delilah's bedroom.  
  
The first thing Vaughn notices is that the room is empty. He panics for a moment before he hears Sydney's voice coming from behind the door of the adjoining bathroom. Placing the coffee mugs down on the dresser, he and Jack cross the room and enter the bathroom to investigate.  
  
They find Sydney sitting on the side of the bath, a crying Delilah in her arms. She is leaning into the tub, one hand under the tap testing the temperature of the water. Vaughn moves to sit beside her, reaching out to take Delilah from her.  
  
"Don't, she's covered in puke," Sydney warns him. "She started coughing and it woke her up and then the next thing I know I've got an exorcist baby on my hands,"  
  
"How's her temperature?" Vaughn asks as he places the back of his hand on Delilah's forehead and is relieved to find it only slightly warm.  
  
"It's ok for now, but her cough is getting worse and worse." Sydney tells him, her voice a combination of fear and frustration. She checks the bath water once more before turning off the taps, apparently happy with the temperature. "I just want to get her cleaned up a bit," Sydney explains to Vaughn as she begins to strip off Delilah's soiled clothes. Vaughn helps her and together they manage to coax the little girl into the water, where she sits sniffling pitifully. Sydney and Vaughn both sit beside the tub, their hands within easy reach of their daughter.  
  
"Here," Jack says, startling Sydney. She and Vaughn turn and accept the forgotten coffees he is offering with thanks. "How are you holding up, sweetheart?" he asks of Sydney.  
  
"I'll be better when she's better," she tells him truthfully. "Are you just getting home?"  
  
"Yes, I had to stay late at work," Jack says rather vaguely, not giving away any details. Vaughn glances curiously at him for a moment before turning back to his daughter, who has started crying afresh. Within a minute the crying turns into coughing and the bathroom in filled with the barking sound.  
  
"Is that how she's sounded all night?" Jack asks Sydney and Vaughn. Sydney looks curiously at her father and nods.  
  
"It started this morning," Vaughn tells him.  
  
"Can I just get in there for a moment?" Jack sheds his suit jacket and tie, quickly rolling his shirt sleeves up his arms. He moves to kneel at the edge of the tub, Vaughn moving back to accommodate him. "Hey sweetheart," Jack croons softly to the sniffling Delilah as he reaches over and places one hand on her back, the other on the front of her neck. "Lets see if I can get you to cough for me again."  
  
It only takes Delilah a moment to comply with his request. Jack concentrates for a moment before running a hand gently over Delilah's forehead and turning around to face Sydney.  
  
"She's fine," he tells his daughter. "She just has a mild croup." Jack straightens up from his position on the floor. "You used to get it once a month when you were a baby."  
  
"Should we take her to the Emergency Room?" Vaughn asks, concerned for his daughter.  
  
"No, the best thing to do is to sit with her in a steamy room." Jack pulls Delilah's towel off of the rack and hands it to Sydney. "Get her out and I'll show you what to do."  
  
Within a few minutes Delilah is wrapped up in her towel, settled in Vaughn's lap with Sydney close by. Jack drains the tub whilst instructing Sydney to turn on the water and adjust the temperature. Before too long all four of them are sitting in a slightly steam filled room as Delilah fusses and snuggles closer to her Papa. After ten minutes or so, her breathing begins to become quieter and calmer and her eyes begin to drift closed as sleep tries to overtake her once again.  
  
"I'm going to go and get changed," Jack announces, standing up. "You should get her dressed and into bed now, she'll probably go back to sleep for a while." Vaughn stands up carefully, causing Delilah to raise her sleepy head in confusion.  
  
"It's alright, bebe," he whispers softly to her, lowering her head back onto his shoulder. Sydney turns off the shower then opens the bathroom door to allow Vaughn to move slowly back into Delilah's bedroom.  
  
As soon as Vaughn lowers her down to the change table, Delilah awakes and begins to whimper and fuss. Vaughn leans down close to her, stroking her head and whispering soothing words into her ear whilst Sydney changes her diaper and dresses her in a clean pair of pyjamas.  
  
"You want me to take her?" Vaughn asks as Sydney lifts Delilah into her arms and moves across the room to the rocking chair.  
  
"No, I need some cuddle time with her," Sydney tells him with a smile. "You've had her all day."  
  
"Fair enough," Vaughn replies with a chuckle as he kneels down beside the chair for a moment. "She's sounding much better," he comments.  
  
"Yeah, she is. Hopefully she can sleep for a while." Vaughn moves to sit against the wall, his vantage point still allowing him to watch Delilah as she slowly drifts to sleep.  
  
"Is she asleep?" Jack asks from the doorway as he re-enters the room.  
  
"Almost," Sydney tells him softly as she continues to stroke Delilah's back.  
  
"That's good," Jack comments. "I think we all need some more coffee. Vaughn, will you help me?"  
  
Vaughn stares at Jack for a moment, opening his mouth to protest before promptly closing it again when he sees the look on Jack's face. Clearly, there is a reason for this request. Vaughn moves from his position on the floor to give Delilah a gentle kiss on her head before straightening up and facing Sydney. "You'll come join us when she's asleep?" She nods and he and Jack leave the room.  
  
"Is something wrong?" Vaughn asks Jack as they make their way through the house to the kitchen.  
  
"No," Jack says rather vaguely. "There is something I need to discuss with you and Sydney though."  
  
Vaughn gives Jack a curious look as he moves about the kitchen. He is both curious and concerned about whatever it is Jack needs to discuss with them, but knows all too well that Jack will not tell him until he is good and ready.  
  
They work in silence for a few moments, Jack retrieving mugs and spoons whilst Vaughn fills the kettle and turns it on to boil. He pauses, leaning against the counter as he watches Jack retrieving the milk from the refrigerator. "I want to say thank you," Vaughn says after a quiet moment. Jack stops for a moment in front of the fridge and turns to face Vaughn, who continues. "I had no idea what to do with Delilah tonight," Vaughn confesses. "No idea how to make my daughter better." He pauses for a breath. "Who knows what might have happened if you hadn't come home when you did."  
  
Jack walks towards Vaughn, placing the milk on the counter before turning to face the younger agent, his face unreadable. "She would have been fine, Agent Vaughn," Jack tells him sincerely. "You would have taken her to the ER, and she would have been fine." He turns back to the counter and pours milk into his mug. "You forget that I've been doing this for over 30 years; I've learned a thing or two in that time. But that doesn't mean that I'm a better father than you or anyone else. It just means I've been doing it longer."  
  
"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel much better," Vaughn pours his coffee and moves to sit at the kitchen table, staring blankly past the mug in his hands to the wooden surface. It's times like tonight that Vaughn really fears for his abilities as a father.  
  
"It wasn't supposed to," Jack tells him as he comes to sit opposite. "I was just reminding you that parenting is something that you learn how to do as you go. All you can do is follow your instincts and hope for the best."  
  
"And if you're not sure if you can trust your instincts?" Vaughn lifts his head to look at Jack, gamely meeting the senior mans' gaze. For a moment, neither of them moves or speaks.  
  
"You have no reason to ever doubt your instincts, Agent Vaughn. At least not where your daughters are concerned." Jack finally tells him before breaking his gaze and getting up from the table to rifle through the cupboards.  
  
A few minutes later, the door to the kitchen opens and Sydney enters, making a beeline for the coffee.  
  
"Is she asleep?" Vaughn asks Sydney as she sits next to him and is relieved when she nods with a smile.  
  
"Out like a light."  
  
"Is she breathing easier?" Jack asks, adding his own concerns for his grandchild to the conversation.  
  
Sydney nods as she swallows a mouthful of coffee. "Yes, much." She smiles at her dad, relief evident on her face. "Thank you so much for your help tonight."  
  
Jack tries to dismiss her comments, shrugging his shoulders. "I did nothing, sweetheart."  
  
"You did enough," Sydney tells him.  
  
"So what did you need to talk to us about?" Vaughn asks, causing Sydney to look from Vaughn to her father curiously. Jack watches them both for a moment before taking a breath and beginning.  
  
"We intercepted a message this afternoon on Echelon," he begins. "The key words identified initially were Julian Sark, Sydney Bristow and Amelia Bristow." He pauses for a moment to allow this information to sink in. "The rest of the message was encrypted, however. It took analysis several hours to break the encryption, but they eventually did and were able to decipher the entire transmission." Jack gets up and walks across the room to where he left his briefcase earlier and retrieves a piece of paper. He brings it back to the table and places it on the wooden tabletop in front of Sydney and Vaughn.  
  
"Oh my god," Sydney mutters as she quickly reads the written words. She looks up quickly to her father, the look of shock on her face very plainly evident. "Is this real?"  
  
Jack merely nods as Sydney turns her head back down to read the message once again; the words on the page causing the slight feeling of hope that she hasn't felt in forever.  
  
_Sydney Bristow,  
  
I know the location for Julian Sark and Amelia Bristow. I will contact you via satellite at 10pm Pacific Standard Time on Saturday with more information._

* * *

The next two days seem to crawl past for Sydney and Vaughn, but finally Saturday evening arrives and they make their way to the CIA ops centre with Delilah in tow. They have spent the last two days nursing her back to health, but are not yet willing to let her out of their sights for too long.  
  
To say this atmosphere in the rotunda is tense in an understatement. Sydney and Vaughn are sitting nervously in front of the monitors, anxiously counting the minutes until the appointed time. Most of the other agents and analysts left hours ago, but Weiss, Marshall, Jack and Dixon are floating around the rotunda. Delilah is sleeping peacefully in her porta- crib, stashed in Marshall's office.  
  
"How are you two doing?" Vaughn looks over his shoulder to find Weiss behind him, a cup of coffee held out like a peace offering.  
  
"I've been better," Vaughn tells his friend truthfully, reaching out to gladly accept the beverage. Sydney doesn't reply, her vacant expression suggesting she hasn't heard a word as she stares at past the screen before her.  
  
"Here Syd, I got you a herbal tea, just how you like it," Weiss leans around Vaughn to hand her the drink, which she accepts after a moment. "How much longer?"  
  
Sydney sips her tea gratefully as she studies her watch for what is approximately the 20th time in the past five minutes. "Anytime now," she tells Weiss.  
  
Silence descends upon the group as Eric pulls up a nearby chair and the three of them sit and wait, sipping their drinks as they watch the screen before them expectantly. Suddenly, one of the satellite screen emits a long, obnoxious beep before erupting first into static, then a flickering image of something.  
  
"Dad, Marshall," Sydney calls loudly into the room, both men hurrying in her direction. Marshall quickly working to clear up the image and stream it through his computer. After a moment the static and wonky lines clear, and Sydney and Vaughn come face to face with their daughter.  
  
Amelia Vaughn is sitting on the floor of an ornately decorated lounge room, dressed neatly in a blue pinafore and black patent leather shoes. A voice from behind the camera, too low for them to hear, gives her an instruction of some kind and Amelia laughs, moving quickly across the floor to grab at the camera. It is a move Vaughn has seen her sister do many time before, the familiarity of it enough to wrench his heart up into his throat.  
  
_"Ami, don't touch,"_ the voice from off camera commands reproachfully, louder this time. The cameraperson takes a step backwards from Amelia, focusing the camera so she is in full frame once more.  
  
"That's Irina," Jack suddenly says, a horrified look passing over his face. He turns quickly to a passing agent. "Get Director Dixon now, tell him we have a message from Irina Derevko" The young man scurries off quickly.  
  
_"Amelia,"_ Irina commands from her position behind the camera, _"Say hello to your Mama."_ Amelia looks upwards for a moment, then forward once more, her dark brown eyes staring straight down the barrel of the camera.  
  
_"Hi Mama,"_ she says, waving madly. _"Hi."_ Amelia begins to laugh, still waving. Irina grabs Amelia's attention again, her command too soft once more for Sydney or Vaughn to hear it. After a moment, Amelia looks back into the camera once again. _"Love you!"_ she exclaims loudly, tossing her hands up above her head as she does.  
  
Sydney reaches out to touch the screen, running her fingers across the happy image as her tears flow freely down her cheeks. "Hi baby," she whispers to herself. "We love you too." As she sits back into her chair, she feels Vaughn's hand grasping hers tightly. She turns her head to meet his gaze, the look that passes between them communicating more than words ever could.  
  
_"She misses you, Sydney. She asks for you every day."_ Irina's steady voice fills the room once more. _"Julian tried to feed me some sob story about a woman he'd had an affair with who'd died of cancer, leaving him with their daughter; but I knew the moment I looked at her she was your daughter,"_ she pauses briefly before continuing. _"I looked into those same eyes myself every day for six years."_  
  
"Marshall, are you able to trace her location?" Dixon asks as he approaches, leaning down close to him so as to not disturb Sydney and Vaughn.  
  
"I'm already on it, should have it in a minute or two." Marshall confirms.  
  
_"She's so much like you were as a baby, Sydney,"_ Irina continues. _"I have cherished every moment I have been able to spend with her these past three months."_ Sydney makes a noise of shock, a look of horror on her face. Vaughn tugs gently on their joined hands, drawing her close to his side. He leans in and whispers something comforting in her ear that no one else in the room can hear. Sydney relaxes slightly, but doesn't move away from Vaughn's embrace; both of them keeping their eyes focused on the screen before them as they watch their daughter's every move.  
  
Amelia has apparently grown bored with staring into the camera, and is now rifling through a toy box in the corner of the room. _"I fear that her memories of you are beginning to fade though, Sydney,"_ Irina speaks again. _"She already calls Julian 'Daddy'. I'm worried that he will make it so that she forgets who she really belongs to."_ There is a pause. _"This is why you have to come and take her back, now."_  
  
"We've got a location," Marshall calls over his shoulder to Jack and Dixon. "It's a property outside of St. Petersburg," he tells them, pulling up a map for them to study.  
  
_"Julian left yesterday for what he claimed was a business trip. He won't be back for another four days, until the day before her birthday. By now I'm sure you have my location. The night after tomorrow the staff here will all have a night off; the back door will not be locked."_  
  
Sydney eyes widen as she realizes what her mother is suggesting.  
  
_"Amelia's bedroom is in the end of the north corridor; there is always a night light on inside."_ On screen, Amelia is moving towards the camera, a toy of some description held out before her.  
  
_"Nanna!"_ she calls upwards, followed by some words Vaughn does not understand. Irina replies in the same dialect; whatever she says causes Amelia to turn back to the toy box.  
  
"Is she speaking Russian?" Vaughn asks Sydney who nods in reply, her eyes not moving from the screen.  
  
_"I know I haven't earned any trust from you, Sydney, but I need you to trust me now. This little girl needs you to trust me. She needs you to come and take her home."_ Irina's tone has taken on a pleading quality. _"Don't make the same mistake I did."_  
  
Suddenly, without warning, the screen becomes static once more before finally going blank.  
  
"Marshall, what's happening?" Sydney whips her head around to look at him.  
  
"The signal's gone," Marshall tells her carefully. "It was disconnected at the other end."  
  
"Did you make a recording?"  
  
"Yeah Syd, I did," Marshall smiles softly at her. "I recorded everything."  
  
Sydney attempts to return her friends smile, unable to verbalise how much his attention to details means to her. "Thank you."  
  
"Marshall, why don't you show me that tape and I'll begin looking for anything that might help us," Weiss suggests as the two of them move quickly from his seat and over to a desk on the other side of the room, leaving Sydney and Vaughn alone with her father and Dixon.  
  
Vaughn looks towards Jack, "Did you get her location?"  
  
Jack nods, "Someplace outside of St. Petersburg. Marshall managed to get the co-ordinates, it's apparently a large country property."  
  
"So what next?"  
  
"We need to come up with a plan to infiltrate the property," Jack tells him. "Why don't you and Sydney go take a break for a few minutes whilst we get the intel together." Jack looks pointedly at his daughter who is still shaken by the events of the past few minutes. "We'll meet in the conference room in ten minutes." Jack turns to leave but Sydney calls after him.  
  
"Dad," he stops and turns back to face her. "Are we going to get her back?"  
  
Jack nods at his daughter, his heart aching at the sight of her hopeful face. "Yes sweetheart, we are." Sydney smiles a happy smile as he turns and walks away.  
  
"Why don't we go get some air." Vaughn suggests, drawing Sydney's attention. She nods and he stands, offering his hand to her. Sydney takes it gratefully as she rises to stands before him, drawing comfort from his presence.  
  
Wordlessly they walk through the rotunda to the stairs which lead them up to the roof of the building. The cold night air hits them in the face as they step out, causing Sydney to shiver involuntarily.  
  
"You ok?" Vaughn asks, releasing her hand for a moment to offer her his jacket. He places it gently around her shoulders. Sydney smiles at him as she moves to lean against a wall, closing her eyes and drawing in a slow breath.  
  
"Do you remember the last time we were up here?" she asks Vaughn, seemingly choosing not to answer his question.  
  
"Yeah, I do." Vaughn moves to sit beside her. "It seems like a lifetime ago." As they descend into silence, Sydney gazes off into the distance, giving the illusion that she is concentrating on the lights from the neighbouring buildings.  
  
"She looked happy," she comments, breaking the silence. Vaughn turns to look at her, curiously. "Do you think she's happy?"  
  
Vaughn contemplates her question for a moment before answering. "I think she's adjusted to her living situation," he says finally. "But that doesn't mean she's better off."  
  
"I know that, I do," Sydney assures him. "But I'm worried that it's too late; that she's been gone from us too long." Sydney turns to face him again, her face awash with fear. "What if she doesn't remember me?"  
  
"She does, Sydney," Vaughn reaches over and places an arm around her, drawing her body close to him. "You saw on that video how much she misses you. She could never forget you."  
  
Sydney smiles at him as she draws closer into his embrace. "Just think," she says, a slight sense of awe in her voice. "After all this time, we're just days away from having our daughter with us again."  
  
Vaughn is unable to hide the smile that plays across his own face as he allows himself to imagine the reunion. "I know," he tells Sydney. "We're all going to be together finally."

* * *

By 3am the plans to infiltrate Irina's property and rescue Amelia are made and they all head home for a few hours sleep. Vaughn unlocks the front door of his apartment as quietly as possible and carefully makes his way through the hallways to the master bedroom. As Vaughn is slipping into his side of the bed, Lauren stirs from her position and turns over to blink sleepily at him.  
  
"Michael?" she asks, her voice gravely with sleep.  
  
"Yeah, it's me." Vaughn reaches out and gently brushes a strand of Lauren's hair out of her face. "It's very early, go back to sleep."  
  
"Is everything ok?" Lauren asks. "You've been gone almost all night."  
  
"Everything is fine," he assures his wife. "In fact, things are better than they've been in a long time." Vaughn can't help but smile at her as he mentally recalls the events of the past few hours. Lauren smiles slightly at him as her eyes close again.  
  
"I'm glad, Michael," she tells him through a yawn. "So what happened that was so fantastic?"  
  
Vaughn leans in close to her, his face bright and happy. "We found Amelia," he whispers gently into her ear as her eyes close. "She's with Irina in St. Petersburg. I'll tell you about it later, go back to sleep."  
  
He rolls to the other side of the bed, not noticing as Lauren's eyes open and she turns slightly to stare at him. Vaughn falls almost instantly into a deep, exhausted sleep; so deep, in fact, that he is not aware of his wife, lying wide awake beside him for the rest of the night.  
  
Vaughn's internal alarm wakes him just before seven. It takes him a few minutes of mental coaxing to get himself out of bed, his body not entirely satisfied with the measly three and a half hours sleep it has been given. He notes vaguely as he heads for the shower that Lauren's side of the bed is empty, something strange for this hour on a Sunday. 'Probably got up early to call her mother,' he muses to himself as he turns on the water as hard as it will go in an attempt to wake his groggy brain. Sydney is supposed to pick him up at 7:30 so they can take Delilah to Dixon's together, and he still has to pack.  
  
Vaughn quickly showers before making his way back to the bedroom to dress and quickly pack. As he quickly chooses clothes from the closet in which to get dressed in, his thoughts drift to the reason for this trip and he can't help the smile that slides across his face.  
  
He's going to finally get to hold his daughter.  
  
The pure joy that that thought gives him is enough to keep the smile on his face as he finishes getting himself ready, haphazardly throwing a few belongings into an overnight bag. Hair and teeth are brushed in similar rushed fashion, before Vaughn finally picks up his bag and coat and walks down the hall to Delilah's bedroom. He places his bag down on the floor before crossing to the crib and reaching down into it to pick up the teddy bear he had carefully placed there back in July. Vaughn pauses for a moment, running his fingers softly over the delicate stitching on the front of the toy.  
  
_Amelia_.  
  
He raises the bear gently to his lips for a brief moment before crossing back to the doorway and leaning down to secure the bear in his bag.  
  
Vaughn is startled to find Lauren sitting silently at the kitchen table when he enters the room; he had expected her to be in the living room on the phone back East.  
  
"Good morning," he tells her as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the pot she has thankfully left on the counter. "You're up awfully early. Is your mom ok?"  
  
Lauren nods silently, her eyes focused downward on the cup she holds in her hands. "She's fine, I talked to her just before," she tells him. "I couldn't sleep."  
  
Vaughn pours milk into his mug as he looks at her, apologetic. "Did I wake you up when I came in?" he asks, concerned.  
  
"No, it wasn't you," Lauren tells him, her eyes moving upward to meet his. "I just had a few things I needed to talk to mom about"  
  
"Nothing too serious, I hope." Vaughn takes a seat at the table opposite Lauren.  
  
"No, just some things that have been on my mind." He waits for her to elaborate, but she doesn't. Instead they sit in silence for a few minutes before the sound of the security buzzer breaks the quiet.  
  
"That'll be Sydney," Vaughn tells Lauren, draining the last of the coffee from his mug as he stands. He places the empty mug in the sink then moves around the room to give Lauren a brief kiss. "I'll call you when we get to St. Petersburg," he promises. "Tell you all about what's happened." Lauren says nothing, just nods slightly as he picks up his bag. "I'll see you when I get back," he tells her as he walks toward the front door.  
  
"Michael," Lauren's voice calls clearly across the kitchen, causing Vaughn to turn and face her. "I won't be here when you get back."  
  
Vaughn pauses. "Why, are you going to visit your mother again?" he asks, confused. Lauren's eyes brim with tears as she looks at him, shaking her head.  
  
"No, I'm not. I'm moving out," she tells him plainly, the tears spilling over onto her cheeks. Vaughn stops dead in his tracks as the significance of her words.  
  
"What?" he asks, unable to form a more coherent sentence. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I'm moving back home to Virginia for a while," she continues, her tears running freely now. "To give you and I some time apart."  
  
Vaughn drops his bag to the floor as he moves to kneel beside her chair, the look on his face a combination of horror and sadness.  
  
"But why?" he asks as tears begin to slide down his own cheeks. "I thought things were better between us now?"  
  
"They are," Lauren agrees, nodding. "But they're not how they were when were got married, and they never will be." She pauses to take a breath, wiping at her eyes distractedly with one hand. "Your priorities are far different now than they were a year ago, and there is no place for me in that life now."  
  
"Lauren, how can you think that?" Vaughn asks her, genuinely distressed and confused about the things she is saying.  
  
"Because it's the truth, Michael." Lauren tells him simply. "I realized many weeks ago that your children – and their mother – are and always will be far more important in your life than I can hope to be." She looks down at her hands for a moment. "I just wasn't strong enough to admit that to myself.  
  
"When you came home last night, so excited about finding Amelia, I knew that it was time to do something. You are only days away from having your children both with you. Of having your family back together; a family that includes you and Sydney and the girls - not me." Vaughn opens his mouth to protest but Lauren holds up a hand. "Please, I need to get this out while I have the courage," she tells him, her voice cracking slightly. "Your life is different now; it doesn't include me anymore. And it's time for me to do what I need to do to help myself realize that." Lauren's face crumples as she begins to really cry in earnest. "Because if we stay here in this life too much longer, we're both going to end up just hurting ourselves and each other."  
  
"Why now?" Vaughn asks her, his own voice heavy with emotion. "Why wait until now to do something."  
  
Lauren shrugs sadly at him, her face still wet and sad. "I didn't have the courage until now," she tells him. "I still love you; I guess I hoped that might be enough."  
  
"And isn't it?"  
  
Lauren pauses for a moment, meeting Vaughn's eyes as she slowly shakes her head. "No, its not."  
  
They sit in silence, staring at one another as the tears roll down their cheeks. Suddenly, their gazes are broken by the sound of the security buzzer once more. Vaughn turns his head quickly in the direction of the door, startled.  
  
"That's Sydney," Lauren tells him. "You have to get going."  
  
Vaughn shakes his head, "No, we need to talk about this more."  
  
Michael," Lauren says forcefully, reaching over to take both of his hands in one of hers. "What you need to do right now is take care of your family. Your daughter needs you." She drops his hands as she stands, moving to grab some tissues from a box on the top of the fridge. "I'll be staying with my parents for a while," she tells him as she wipes at her eyes. "I'll take Donovan to the kennel before I go."  
  
Vaughn stands up from where he was crouched, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. "This can't be the end of this," he says to Lauren.  
  
Lauren just looks at him, her face calmer than before. "Then how come it is?" she asks him as the buzzer once again interrupts them. "You'd better go," Lauren gestures towards the doorway. "You'll miss your plane."  
  
Still in shock, Vaughn picks up his back from where he dropped it on the floor and walks slowly towards the front entrance. He turns as he opens the door to glance one last time at his wife before stepping into the hallway and closing the door on his old life.

* * *

This chapter wasn't inspired much by any one song (just a lot of Sarah Mac and Rosie Thomas and Natalie Merchant) but the last scene between Lauren and Vaughn was directly inspired by Duncan Sheik's song _Half Life_.The line "_Before the truth goes back into hiding/I want to decide 'cause it's worth deciding/To work on finding something more than this fear_" was what inspired the entire conversation and revelation between them.  
  
This chapter was 15 pages and over 7,000 words long. In total, this story is (so far) 56 pages and over 28,800 words long. My masters thesis won't be that long! sigh


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